Of Birthdays and Bashes
by AmythistAngel07
Summary: PILOT. A short story consisting of two parts. It's the Hyperforce's birthday, and in years past they've done little but take the day off, have a gift exchange, and go out to eat. Though this time around, it's going to be quite different. Their friends and allies are going to see to it that it be their best birthday yet.
1. Part I

**YOWSA. It has been YEARS since I have uploaded something to this website.**

**As I have stated before, this is a pilot with my (quite revamped) characters and the Hyperforce. Because it is, this story has no particulair plotline, but I do hope will be entertaining, nonetheless.**

**You need no prior knowledge of the characters to understand this. It's MEANT to be introductory. If you would like to see their references, a link to such is avalible on my profile.**

**Rated T - For adult humor, mild cursing, and liquor/smoking references.**

**Illustration to this story belongs to KrazieKazoo on DeviantART website, and the link for such can also be found near the top of my profile. I commissioned her to do it with both the Hyperforce and my characters and have her permission to use it.**

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_**Of Birthdays and Bashes**_

In their glory days, Hyperforce members could go into the grocery store and no one would bother them except for the occasional person to thank them for saving the city. It was of the likeliness of seeing a soldier in uniform, except they would be meter tall monkeys trying to work with a shopping cart that was made for humans twice their height. Nonetheless they would get the groceries done eventually, alas sometimes they had to jump or stand on the shelves to get delicate things, such as eggs, safely into the cart.

This run, it was Otto and Nova, and they needed groceries in the worst way. They had neglected grocery shopping for awhile, and their cart was filled to the brim and then stacked on top of it. They made their way down every aisle to snake across the entire store, and the last sections on the end were the frozen foods, which made the majority of their inventory. Nova was browsing through different kinds of coffee creamers. Otto was in the next section, tossing assorted frozen breakfasts from across the freezers and into the cart.

It was amidst this a pair of waffles came slamming into the back of the combatant's head. She groaned and slowly turned around, giving her teammate the mother of all glares as she bent down, retrieved the item, and pitched it into the cart.

Otto had on the widest smile on his face and was trying to keep himself from laughing. "I'm sorry." The female only shook her head. "No, really! I was aiming for the cart! I swear!"

"Yeah, yeah," the yellow simian rolled her eyes. "Because it's not like you can simply walk around and put the waffles in the cart, oh no. You have to throw them across the aisle."

"But throwing them is easier and faster! I'd have to walk around the aisle, like, a dozen times before I got all of the food in there."

"We barely have enough room in the cart. But do you _want_ me to put the cart over there?"

"No." The engineer made a puckered grin. "I like throwing them. It's fun."

Nova chuckled to herself and turned back around to the creamers and observed what she had picked out. There was milk, hazelnut, vanilla, but then she had to get half and half. She was curious to see she couldn't find it. Upon looking up, she saw there were numerous cartons of it on the very top shelf. Where she couldn't reach. Sometimes she really hated being on a human planet. Could she opt to just not get it? No, because Gibson and Antauri would only drink their coffee with half and half, and if she came home without it, they would ask her why, and she wouldn't lie. So now, she would either have to wait for someone to come by or for Otto to join her. The most convenient way for now was to ask the tall, heavy-set man with a full grown beard and a ponytail that was standing within earshot. Thankfully, now that Gibson had made the translators, she wouldn't have to tap people and then write them a note anymore.

"Hey, Mister?" she asked, then continued as he turned around. "Can you reach up and get some half and half creamer for me? As you can see, I'm a bit… vertically challenged."

"Oh, sure," the stranger nodded, reaching for the shelf. "Care which one?"

"Nah. Just not the off brand. They'll kill me."

"Sounds like my girlfriend," he chuckled as he grabbed a carton and handed it to the other. "Anything else, or is that it?"

Nova tossed the creamer into the cart. "That's it, I think. Thanks."

"LADY NOVIE!"

The yellow female quickly spun around and saw Etta was running towards her with short, rapid steps, as she had on a thin black and white pencil dress that hindered her movement. The pink-eyed female made entertained chuckles as the other advanced, and then exchanged a warm hug with her.

"Oh, Novie!" the teal woman squealed and took her by the hands. "It's mighty good ta see ya! 'Seems loike it's been forevah, yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean, at least a few weeks." The combatant gestured to her. "Neat dress."

"Oye, ya like it? Gilson gave it ta me as a birthday presant! Thanks a lot!"

Otto exclaimed from the other aisle. "Novo is right! Annie's a ninja!" The slate female spoken of was giggling and had her arms wrapped around the engineer's shoulders, embracing him from behind. "She coulda snuck up and hurt me!"

"Goodness, whatever are you talking about?" the counselor said sweetly and kissed him on the side of the head. "I'd never hurt you, Otto!"

"Hey, Annie," Nova chuckled. "What brings you guys here? I didn't think the Powersquad shopped at major grocery stores. I thought you like those organic market places."

"Thot's to'ally not true! We ain't _thot_ posh!" the female engineer laughed. "We'll get things like toma'oes an' stuffs at tha mahket, 'specially ice cream an' dry goods! We just dun' get meat or 'erbs or beau'y fings from 'ere 'cause they ain't as good."

"This case being, we're just here to pick up ice cream and tidbits." Anna held up the black shopping basket in the crook of her arm. She released Otto from her grasp and brushed off her red, collared day dress. "But it looks like we came in just as you were finishing things up. Sorry we won't be able to bother you, then."

"Oh, you're never a bother, Annie," the Hyperforce female leaned over the freezer and anchored her arms on it as if casually sitting at a table. "Speaking of which, I'm kinda glad you guys are here. Any place you could think of to pick up a cake? They're all out, here."

The counselor tilted her head. "That depends. What's the occasion?"

"Birthday."

Etta chimed in, "Ya wan' a fancy gourmet cake or ya want buttacream er whot…?"

The combatant chuckled. "Just a regular ol' birthday cake."

"Well, we usually make our own cakes," the counselor shrugged. "So I wouldn't know."

"But if they were gonna set'le with a cake from here, I say B'nG would be a good place."

"I've never heard of it!" Otto piped up. "Where's that?"

The teal simian cackled. "All tha way on Agness! But don't cha worry, love, ya won't 'ave to be takin' a trip anytwime soon! Why, I once picked me up some fairy cakes at– Oh where was I…" she thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "Darrell's!"

"Oo, what are fairy cakes? Do they have sprinkles and plastic wings on them?"

Anna giggled at the man's question. "Fairy cakes are cupcakes. So yes, they could."

"Who's 'avin' tha birthday, if I might ask?" Etta nudged her friend on the shoulder. "I'd sure 'ate it ta be someone I know an' I fohgot again!"

"Well it _is_ someone you know, some _people_ you know," Nova snickered. "But you couldn't have forgotten because you didn't know in the first place. It's kinda sorta the day the Hyperforce dubs as our collective birthday, because when we were in school we all had the same birth date put on our records. So I thought to pick up a cake that's probably going to be eaten well before the actual day unless I can figure out some way to hide it in the fridge."

"It's your birthday?" the Powersquad's commander was surprised, but happy. "When?"

"This weekend. But Monday is grocery shopping day, so… yeah."

The slate female nodded thoughtfully. "Then what do you usually do on your birthday?"

Otto laughed. "Give each other presents, take the day off, and then go out to eat!"

"And that's it?"

"Yep!"

Anna nodded, and then, a wide grin came onto her face. "Well, then, I insist you let the team and I take that day and arrange something special for all of you."

"Oh, no, Annie, you don't have to do that–"

"Okay!" The man interrupted his teammate with an excited beam.

"And we know we don't have to. But we want to, really. After all the things you've done for us and with as close of companions as our teams have become, it would be criminal _not_ to!"

"Oo, I'm well excited already!" Etta clapped her hands. "You can 'ave a pahty for once! Aw, I love decorating tha Ba'le Droid! An' then we'll at least 'ave Novo ta ask whot ta get ya as presents because God knows how 'ard men ah to shop fo!"

"We'll be sure to call you later tonight with plans." The magenta-eyed simian finished the statement with a pleasant smile and nod. "We'll at least have a skeleton together so we won't have to make it on short notice. And besides, you're mostly men. They don't always need as much notice as we ladies do, and you were going to take the day off, anyway, yes?"

"Sure, we'll be fine," Nova said, quickly surrendering the argument. "It's really nice of you. And remember– we're not expecting anything at all, much less something extravagant."

"Of course," the commander nodded. "Well, then, seeing as you two have to finish your grocery shopping, we'll leave you alone. But it was wonderful seeing you."

Otto chirped, giving her another hug. "You, too!"

"We'll see ya this weekend, then!" the engineer also embraced the Hyperforce warrior in a goodbye gesture. "Oo, it'll be so much fun! I'm so glad we ran into you!"

"Oh, and one more thing," Anna smirked. "If Antauri thinks that he can argue with me about this one, you can tell him to kiss my furry ass."

The blonde simian laughed in delight. "Oh, it would be my pleasure."

"So what do we have?"

Anna's face was lit up with the blue and white hues of an electronic screen, as she was peering over Sparkey's shoulder to look at the computer.

The pink simian was leaned back and enjoying a shoulder rub from the other. "Well, there's only two places right now that are even showing things I think would be remotely interesting for all of them." She switched between two windows opened on the device. "The Color Purple and The Drowsy Chaperone. I've never seen either. Purple, by the description, looks okay, it's just more of a soul production with a lot of gospel music. Chaperone just seems to be hilarious, kinda like a sitcom, comedy with a happy ending. They might like it. Both of them, matinee."

"Which one do you think? Have you asked Novo?"

"Both Novo and I are partial to Chaperone."

"Drowsy Chaperone it is!" the slate female kissed the other on the top of the head. "Go ahead and get the tickets. Nine, please, since one of us is going to have to stay home and make the dinner, and put it on the group debit. In front of the first balcony if you can. I don't care if the floor ones are more expensive, I always like the view from the balconies better."

"Same here," the pilot nodded. "Hope A&G will like it, though."

"Oh, they'll surprise you sometimes. As long as it's not too raunchy, but this says PG-13, so I see no reason why it would be. One time I went to go and see Hairspray with them and they were laughing the entire way through. We even watched some old episodes of Monty Python and other things. I think they like comedy when it's done well, and live, usually."

"Ah." The other nodded, scrolling her way through the different ticket websites to purchase from. "Well, then, I learn something new every day."

"So I need to go and talk with the others," Anna said, pivoting on her heel and making her way out of the office. "But thank you so much, dearie! You are tremendous!"

Without even looking back, the onyx-eyed female raised her hand, opening and closing it shut in a nonchalant adieu. "You know I am. Buh-bye."

After she left, the commander pressed a pad that was mounted in the hallway. "Computer? Can you tell me where Gilson is?"

There was a pause before it responded in a monotone, female voice. "Gilson is in the kitchen. Would you like me to connect you by audio or video?"

"No, thank you." Anna released the button and then took the Droid's pods up from the work and office areas to the commons, where the living room, dining room, kitchen, and things of the like were located. She trotted into the kitchen with a smile on her face, singing joyfully. "Oh, Gigi? My Gigi?" The rich smell of butter and pastry wafted into her nose and made her mouth water, as suppertime hadn't come yet.

"Annie," Elaina turned around from wiping chocolate sauce from the corners of her mouth and sucking her finger. The croissant in her hands had Nutella erupting from the middle. "Ta journée s'est bien passée? {Your day went well?}"

"Oh, it went wonderfully, actually." The slate female rounded a peninsula to the cookie sheet that had the baked goods on them, taking a napkin from the dispenser and helping herself to the pastry. It was hot and flaky; the mixture of chocolate, butter, and salt was rich and decadent. "Ah, no one can make croissants quite like you can, Gigi." She paused for another bite, one that oozed the chocolate over her chin. She giggled as she dabbed at her mouth. "And that's actually why I came here. I wanted to ask if you could make supper this weekend."

Instead of the response that she had hoped for, the sky blue female bore a befuddled expression on her face and was quick to shake her head. "No, I canno'," she said, crisp and to the point. "'Ave zomeone else do eh, buh I am beesy an' es no my turn."

Anna's expression fell. "Buh… But Gilson! No one on this team can cook like you can, and I really wanted to do something special for the Hyperforce!"

"Zhey ah all _men_, mon cher. Anyzing buh zhere oh cooking eh spee-shall."

"What are you so busy with then that you can't cook, anyway?"

"Feefth veekend, my love." The scientist admonished. "I vill be gone to Rosario. An' unteel zhey inven' ah teleportation devi' foh foo', I canno' 'elp vous."

The commander sighed in dismay. "Well can't you reschedule it for next weekend and then your next trip will be at the same time, just four weeks from then? This is the Hyperforce's birthday we're talking about, and they've been such a big part of our lives I wanted to make it amazing!" Her tone dropped to a slight whine, hurt, if anything, and begging. "Please, Elaina, you weren't even here for the holidays or anything! Can't you spare at least _one_ time?"

"Ees Hyperforce's birthday?!" the other echoed, her entire demeanor changing from defensive to joyful as she took her friend by the shoulders and shook her. "Why vous no say so?! Of cour' I may zem suppah!" She laughed and slapped the other on the shoulder, resuming to eating her own pastry. "Ghee, woman, I zought vous vere jus' try to geet me to stay foh juh becau' zomezing like zhat an' I wah zinking, 'Damn, Annie, why vous geet zo _emoshunal_ on meh?!'" She took a moment to partake in her snack.

The commander chuckled nervously and was about to say something, but decided it would be best not to. Elaina was always conveniently absent for most major events such as holidays and birthdays. It was as if she didn't view the team as family like the rest of them did. The reason why always avoided Anna, and it chewed away at her.

"I geeve vous menu tomorrow, buh I mus' buy zings zwee days een advan', zen zome on day oove. Zo dun expeh moi to do anyzing else. Weech day? Saheerday? Soonday?"

"Saturday," the other murmured, attempting to forget about her quaking thoughts.

"All-rye." Elaina nodded and raised her eyebrow. "And vous know eet wheel no be sheep?"

At the thought of it, her commander laughed. "Why, for as many times as the boys have picked up the bill for us at the events or meals we go to, had we counted up the money we were _prepared _to spend had they let us go Dutch, I don't think this would even amount."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho," her friend emitted what was the stereotypical French chortle. "I no worry aboo zhat at all. Zhey probably may ah lease _half_ moe zhen we do on accou' zhat zhey ah men an 'ave mooch, mooch moe ezzperiance, an' 'ave enoo' mo'nay to may lahge fahmee reech. Zo I say, 'Leh zhem pay! Leh zhem feel like beeg boy to 'ake care ah gohgeous lady fwheinds.' Becau' even if zhey only may as mooch as vous an' I, zhey ah _steel_ seet an' pwetty an', 'ow vous say, 'shoogah dah-days.'"

"'Ello mah beau'iful bints!" Etta's charming greeting rang through the room. "Oye, I smell pastries, yes I do! I con already feel my cholesterol soarin' through tha roof!" She joyfully slapped the counter as she passed it. "Either that er Gilson's swea'in' again! HAH."

"Gigi know Gigi smell like buttah scone ween Gigi sweah." The scientist rolled her eyes as she took a napkin and readied one of the croissants for her teammate. "Steel 'ot."

"Oo, jolly jammy!" The engineer giggled as she bit into the croissant with delight, then shivered in pleasure. "Oh, yeah, thot's tha stuff."

"Lovely of you to join us, Etta."

"Oo, oo!" The teal simian chewed and swallowed another bite, not feeling keen on speaking with her mouth full. "Spahkey act'ally told me ta come see ya an' tell ya thot I'wve seen Tha Drowsy Chaperone, yeah? It's the bees knees! So _hilarious_. I fink they'll awl love it."

Her commander clapped her hands. "Oh, splendid, then!"

"But Gilson shouldn't come. No offense, love." After getting a noteworthy expression from the other, she shook her head. "They have this part that this girl is acting like she's French and it's really silly and stereotypical." She giggled. "A French girl named Mimi."

"Vous no zink I can take _juhoke_?" Elaina rolled her eyes. "Even ze French, we make fun of our_selves_, an' I see foreen shows, zhey 'ave satire of ze French, I laugh vah-ree mooch." She sipped from a mug. "Buh I no go becau' I may suppah. An' for rechord, I see Drowsy Chaperone, er La Chaperon Assoupi, as eh wah trhanslated in French, no? Exce' it no French girl name Mimi, it Spanish girl name Mahria."

"Oh, you've seen it, Gigi?" Anna asked. "Because the whole reason it was mentioned was because I asked Sparkey what shows were playing that day that we could possibly take the Hyperforce to see, but I wasn't sure if Antauri and Gibson would like it. What do you think?"

"Eh…" the blue female closed her lips in thought, then bobbed her head from side to side in a comical, thinking fashion. The bobbing then morphed into a nod with a shrug. "Oui, I zink zey will. Is mooch like fahmee show, oui? Kooky characters, dash in weez leetle absur' 'umor, witty narrorator, es satire eh twenties musical, vous go een an' ow of 'reality.' Zere is 'ap dancing numbah, too! I love eh. I zink zey will, too. Een fact, I zink _perfeect_ choice!"

"Oh, that's splendid to hear! All Sparkey could tell me was that it was a comedy."

"A musical within a comedy!" Etta added. "That's its tagline!"

"I simply must call them now! I'm so excited for all of this!" The commander put her hands on her hips. "Can I call them from here or can I not rely on you two shutting up?"

"Relying on us belting up would make you a pillock, mate!"

The other hummed in joy and turned around. "Ah, at least I can always count on this team to be honest with everyone, even when it's brutal honesty."

Anna decided that her room would be the best place, being that any common areas might be inhabited by other team members and she didn't want to disturb them or have others making smart comments. Another quick trip down the pod to the bedroom complex and she was there, and started lighting select candles placed in her room. She never particularly favored artificial light, especially since when she was in school the hallways and classrooms were lit with torches. She could stand it for her job but in her room, there was not a piece of technology other than air conditioner and the computer communicator. It was just how she liked it.

The slate female pressed the select button to turn the microphone on. "Computer? Call the Hyperforce, please. Their main line, if you will."

"Of course. Calling Hyperforce." The computer replied, then allowed the ringing tone to resonate through the speaker in her room. Unfortunately, though, the very person to answer was the very one she was hoping would not, telltale by his low, bass voice.

"Hello, this is Antauri."

"Hello, Antauri, it's Anna," the female said, contemplating whether or not to light another candle. She figured she would only be in the room for the duration of the call and opted not to. "Could you be a dear and connect me to Nova?"

"Nova's busy running diagnostic tests, I'm afraid."

"Otto, then?"

"He's replacing cervos and nowhere near a phone."

"…Gibson?"

"If this is about what you told Nova, then I'm not going to dispute you."

Anna shook her head in defeat. "And you better not or I'm hanging up."

The man raised his pitch to sound nonchalant. "Come, now, Anna, I let you coordinate the holidays. You don't think I'd let you have our birthday?"

"Actually, no, I didn't, not without me putting my little foot down and insisting upon it because every time I try and take care of you or myself you find _some way_ to deny or reverse it."

Antauri chuckled in amusement. "Because heaven forbid I'm obligated to _manners_."

"Well, excuse me, the entire root of _manners_ is to see to it that you please everyone around you, and it would be etiquette to do so unless _otherwise requested_. And it has been otherwise requested by me numerous times, and following manners can sometimes be just as worse as _not_ following them when the circumstances are right. You, sir, have no right to _force _me to accept any charity you might have." Her nose wrinkled in distaste as the other chuckled on the other end. "You think this is humorous, Antauri?"

"Indeed I do, that you are complaining about me being _generous_ to you."

The woman huffed, though snickered, and was glad the other couldn't see her. "Why, I'd never thought you'd speak like such a positively _pompous_ man."

"_Pompous_?" the other echoed, though an entertained smile was on his face.

"Excuse me, why are you laughing?" Anna made her tone sound insulted, but behind the line she was smiling ear to ear. "Well, now, I see what it is. I'm just a sweet little girl and it doesn't matter how many nasty names I throw at you, you'll take it all as fun and games, because there's no way such an important, _sophisticated_ man could take little ol' me _seriously_. You, sir, are an absolute chauvinistic bigot if I have ever met one."

Behind the line, Antauri paused to try and let his muffled laughs dissipate. "Oh, Anna," he finally mustered to say. "The reason I find it so hilarious is that you are so convincing in your absolute distain of me and my company, and yet I know better. Why else would you still want me around at wine tastings or ballets?"

"You sly dog." The other scoffed. "That's a part of an ancient art that women have had for thousands of years in knowing how to take advantage of our standing in society. I ask you, good sir, in the root of all mannerisms, who's the joke on?"

"I suppose it remains to be seen."

There was a pause to allow for a change of mood.

"So," the Powersquad commander picked at the metal crevices of her fingers. "Saturday, you can expect for myself and the team to come meet you at the Robot in our vehicle of choice, so be ready to leave by, oh, say, two o'clock. We are going to take you to an event and supper which requires creative black tie, or I suppose your teammates might simply call it 'formal.' The ladies and I will be in gowns, if that helps them visualize. You should probably expect to be occupied for the rest of the evening and maybe into the night. Feel free to bring another change of clothes if you feel that would make you more comfortable later on. If it matters, everything is indoors. You're not required to bring anything except for your beautiful selves!"

"Well, Anna," the onyx male smiled. "I'll be eagerly awaiting it."

"Indeed," the other replied. "Well, that's all I have to say. So as the French say, 'Au revoir.'"

"Goodbye, then."

"Wow, the girls really went all out."

Sparks's comment uttered more in little words than what could have been said in a paragraph. They watched a long, ebony limousine pull into the driveway of the Robot. He slightly gulped and tugged at his collar, then frantic to make sure his green bowtie was aligned as he put a smooth smile on his face. Just to emphasize, he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the side of the Robot, flicked out a pair of sunglasses and slid them over his eyes.

"You get your hands out of your pockets this instant before I pry them out and tape them behind you," Gibson hissed through bared teeth, giving the other the meanest of glares. "You might think you're achieving a status quo, but instead you look like a complete idiot."

"You're just jealous 'cause I make my suit look _good_, not the other way around."

"Nah, I disagree," Nova haughtily strode past the crimson male and swayed her purple, strapless gown as if dancing to an unsaid beat. She felt proud and quite elegant in it, as she had gone out to buy it as her own present to herself. Even the toughest of girls always loved to feel pretty. It was sheath shaped and sewn to resemble large scales, with an onyx, crystal studded waist to accent her figure, and a matching, flat headpiece that laid on the side of her head. "In fact I think Gibson looks a lot better than _you_. But I'm a girl, what would I know?"

Antauri adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Gibson's right, Sparks. It's considered very uncouth to keep your hands in your pockets, especially like that."

"But the guys that model for GQ do it all the time!"

The blue male scoffed at the engineer's comment. "And they look like uncivilized buffoons is what! If you're going to trust magazines produced by the uneducated public as a role model for what is proper, then you're just going to end up with the sad, uncouth corruption of mannerisms and their complete disregard for formalities."

Otto's lips puckered. "Then what _is_ a role model for manners and what's proper? How did you and Antauri learn all the formal stuff you guys know?"

"Books. And lots of them. Etiquette books, guides to dressing for the occasion, etcetera. Usually ones that are at least forty or more years old."

The limousine rounded about and parked in front of them in the midst of their conversation, the Powersquad combatant being the first to emerge, in an ebony suit with a blue tie and vest. He gestured hello to them with a two finger salute, and then kept the door open for the rest of the members to come out. First was Etta, in a sapphire dress with silver pins to make it fold elegantly, a high waist, and off the shoulder neckline. After was Sparkey, her mermaid gown emerald green with gold studded accents, ruched and tight to accentuate her figure. Lastly was Anna, her dress draped for a low plunge and elegant layering in the front, in rich metallic gold.

"Wow, we should tell you guys it's our birthday more often!" the crimson male laughed and strode towards them, extending his arms in a greeting. "Talk about Hollywood treatment! You gals look _hot_!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at the single male of the other team. "'Cept you, Novo. You're ugly as ever."

"Ya mean more _dishey_ than you ah!" Etta cackled and shook the arm of her mate teammate. "But come now, love, that dun mean ya ain't any moe or less dappah!"

"It's wonderful to see you, Sparks." The slate female exchanged a brief hug and a kiss from the other, then took his hands and rocked them back and forth. "You're looking handsome."

The male gave one of his cocky smirks. "And _you_, Annie, put J-Lo to shame."

"Aw, you're so sweet. And just for that you get first pick!"

"…First pick?"

"Uh huh!" Anna nodded. "It's your birthday, isn't it? And we're going to a formal event, so it's understood that escorts are encouraged. So that means that _you_ gentleman can choose any of us to have on your arm!"

"Oh, cool!" The pilot leaned back with a bit-lipped smile and sneakily snuffled to his right. "Like a date auction except without the auction part." His arm outstretched and wrapped around the pink female's waist. She made a sigh from her nose with a slight frown on her face, though a content expression, as she knew she was going to be his likely pick. "So, how's this work? Do I get 'er for twenty four hours or until the night's over?"

"Until the night's over," Sparkey muttered. "Midnight or whenever you go home."

"What, Sparkey girl?" The other raised his eyebrow and casually stroked her back with a fist. "No witty retorts? No rolling of the eyes or anything?"

The green-clad woman chuckled and shook her head. "Nope. I was completely prepared for this and luckily had a Long Island in the car, so I'll be fine."

Novo laughed. "Four shots and it ain't even three o'clock!"

"That's how I roll."

Sparks's eyes nearly popped open at his date's casual comment. "You mean the limo has a full wet bar…?" The other only snickered and nodded. "Heck, yeah!"

"Two drink maximum, mind you," the female commander pulled her lips into her mouth, to try and fight a smile. "Come now, gentlemen! Don't be shy."

Antauri raised his eyebrows in casual thought and exchanged a look from his fellow male teammates, each of them expecting someone else to go first. The leader chuckled and stepped forward. "Etta," he outstretched his hand towards the teal woman. "I don't think I've escorted you before, even with as long as we've been acquainted."

"Nee hee," the Agness native winked. "How unfortunate for you."

"Where's Gilson?" Nova asked, a bit perplexed at realizing there were five men and only four women this time. Normally when they would go to formal events these days, no one would be left without a partner. "She can't be picked off?"

Sparks rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Gilson's never at these things."

The comment slightly hurt Anna because she knew that it was true, but she quickly brushed it off. A giggle emitted from her as she felt her raised hand being taken, a look over her shoulder revealed it was the scientist, clad with a satin grey ascot tie and vest combination, with a diagonal striped pattern and pinned with pearls. He had a content smile on his face, pleased that his friend had gone before and he didn't have to make a choice.

"Unfortunately, Nova, I don't have an abundance of men on my team." The slate female replied, turning towards the blonde. "You could have Novo, whom would be delighted to escort you, or pick one of your own, I suppose."

Nova shrugged. "I really don't care." She put her hands on her hips and turned behind her. "I guess I'll go with you, Otto. It's your birthday, too."

"No, no, it's okay!" the green male nodded in excitement. "You go with Novo! 'Sides, partners to these things are only the people you walk with and open doors for, so it's no big deal. Honestly it doesn't matter to me, either."

Nova got the sense that for some reason, he was happy to have the option not to deal with her, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was unlike him, though he was trying to be cheery and cover for it. Mentally, she debated whether or not to ask him, then opted not to.

She faced the golden male with a nonchalant expression. "Well, I guess that settles that."

"Splendid!" Anna clapped her hands and turned towards the vehicle. "I suppose if there's nothing else to coordinate, we should get going, then!" The others helped themselves in first, being in the order of who was closer to the limousine. This put the two combatants and Otto to be the ones to lag behind and wait for them all to situate and squeeze into the long automobile. Most of it the time was taken by women, who had dresses to accommodate.

The Hyperforce warrior smirked, thinking about ways she could add interest into the situation. It was then she shoved her handbag into the golden male's chest. He took it rather tentatively, and she smiled in victory. "Hold my purse."

The male smirked, "This is a clutch, not a purse."

"Shut up."

In a sense of boredom, the jade green-eyed man blew out of his lips. "I'd pop out of a cake for you but a cake that big couldn't fit in the car."

His date rolled her eyes. "That problem can be solved by cutting out the middle factor and just putting frosting all over you. But you'd have to take the suit off, first."

Novo's lips pulled into his mouth, though his cheeks curled and his eyes squinted in an apparent smile. "This would not be the first time I have been asked to take off my clothes. I must simply have that effect on women, no matter how ripped they themselves are."

"Hey," Otto trotted towards the two of them and lowered his voice. "I didn't mean to be mean, Nova, and it's not you. I'm just _really_ glad to be alone at one of these things for once! That's the best birthday present that someone could give me!"

"And why doth thou desireth to be woman-less?"

The engineer seemed to pale at the other man's comment, then he murmured out the explanation as if revealing a dark secret. "Gibson beats me."

The two warriors burst out in laughing so intensely and so swiftly that their throats immediately started to hurt. They held their stomachs and crouched over, feeling as if they had to sit on the ground but couldn't due to their attire. Nova tried to muster out protests that her makeup was going to be ruined due to the tears, and she hadn't even left the Robot yet. Of course all of the jokes and wild stories that they could fathom about the comment went through their minds at the same time, which didn't help with their attempting to settle down.

"It's not funny!" the onyx-eyed male protested. "'Cause I forget stuff all the time like which side to walk on and when to open doors or how to hold the arm or whatever, and– And then if I do something wrong Gibson comes at me from behind and then _hits_ me and _yells_ at me! But he does it when no one's looking and whispers and yells at the same time!"

Novo wiped a tear from his eye. "Normally I would say that getting beat up by a skinny smart allec like Gibson is sad, but he's a doctor and knows exactly _where_ to hit you. I learned this the hard way, 'cept with Elaina, so I won't say nothin'."

"Hey, guys!" Sparkey called from the inside of the vehicle. "Are getting in or what?"

"Yes we are! We're just getting carried away," the Powersquad male replied, then turned to Nova and gestured towards the opened door. "After you, my lady."

The drive to the theater was half an hour, but surprisingly getting through the box office didn't involve much waiting at all, as they already acquired their tickets. So they, quite literally, walked by security. The building was old and had beautiful restored artwork, such as the detailing in the wallpaper or the chandeliers that hung above their heads. The theater itself looked like something from a historical movie, with angels carved into the banisters and a mural of infant cherubs that spanned the entire, massive dome that made the ceiling.

"We went to a tour of this location many years ago and they claimed that most of the hardware such as the lights were so tarnished and brittle when they found it that they needed to replace it. But they made exact replicas to have in the working theater and replaced the oil and steam workings with electricity, while the originals are on display in a neighboring museum."

"Oye, thot's blindin'!" Etta subconsciously looked towards one of the brass sconces that lit the balcony, pondering Antauri's words. "Especially since Shuggazoom is so notorious fo' defining tha phrase 'Out with tha old an' in with tha new.'"

The onyx male gave a light laugh of agreement. "I concur."

As they were walking into their seats, Otto's eye caught sight of the back of Sparkey's dress. Or the lack of, thereof, as it was completely open down to the small of her back and held by only two far-apart straps on her shoulders. For the occasion, she had taken off her jetpack, disclosing a black tattoo that whirled in a wing-shaped design. Normally he would think tattoos weren't very feminine, but this one was rather elegant, placed between her shoulders but low enough that it would easily be concealed by every day blouses.

After they had taken their seats, the engineer tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, that tattoo is really cool! I remember you've worn it before. How did you get it on?"

Sparkey opened her mouth in an automatic response, yet she paused with consideration, an entertained smile coming across her painted red lips. "It's not henna, Otto. It's real."

The green male's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Really? Wow! I've never been friends with someone with a _real_ tattoo! When'd you get it? Did it hurt a lot?"

The pink female scratched her cheek in thought. "I've had this for as long as I've known you. Actually, for as long as I've been on the Powersquad. I got it back when I was at the academy. Honestly I can't tell you why, I just thought it'd be cool. Tattoos don't hurt that much, as long as you don't expect it to hurt or don't have a really low pain tolerance. And– Well, I'm a girl, and have high pain tolerance. The best way I can describe it… is if someone were scratching at your skin with a needle. It's not pleasant, but it's not unbearable."

"How's your fur grow to be the same color? Do you dye it?"

"No, the ink pigment makes the fur dark, too. But truth be told if you look at it close enough, it's actually a very dark brown rather than pure black because of it."

Otto laughed. "Nova says I'm colorblind, so I wouldn't know!"

The female pilot shrugged. "I'm actually convinced that people see colors a bit differently than others, and it's been proven by studies, I think. Sometimes the girls and I argue whether a shirt is navy blue or indigo, brown or dark red, gold or brass, things like that," she chuckled to herself. "But you couldn't truly be colorblind because Gibson would have tested you for it and then you would have a restriction on your license to drive the Robot and everything else."

"Oh, yeah! Because then how would you be able to recognize traffic lights?"

"Exactly."

Sparks leaned over as he heard the conversation had come to its end. He subconsciously cleared his throat and straightened his posture. The usual smirk he sported had diminished. "So, uh…" he trailed off, using the phrase to signal that he wanted the pink female's attention. When she turned to face him, he smiled, but not smugly, more of pleasantly. "This is all really cool. Annie said you found this place?"

"I found the show online, yeah," she nodded. "Supposed to be a pretty diverse comedy. Etta said she's seen it and loved it and Novo and I thought it looked interesting."

"Cool. Looking at the program I thought so, too." He bit the inside of his lip and looked down at the floor, pondering on how he could say what he wanted. "You, uh…" he tracked off again, then hoped the words came from him as he wanted them to. "You really _do_ look awesome. I know this'll sound funny, but I never thought I'd actually like a green dress. You usually only wear gold and black, but that color looks _really_ nice on you."

Sparkey could tell by his expression and the careful tone of his voice that he meant this genuinely and was inwardly praying she wouldn't shoot it back in his face. He also seemed at a loss as to how to word such things, as it wouldn't be typical of men to take thought to them, much less say them. To the untrained ear, perhaps it sounded like an overused pickup line that had been modified for his own use. Yet she had so much experience with men's actual compliments versus scripted sentences, she knew the difference well.

In fact, dare she say she might have taken it to heart, as this was the first time she'd worn this gown, and she had been skeptical of the jewel color against her magenta fur. In response, she returned the modest grin. "Well, thank you. Did it occur to you that we're matching?"

"Heh." The pilot looked at himself, seeing his emerald cummerbund. "Not until now."

A silence passed, and Novo, whom was sat between his date and Sparks, nudged him on the arm. "I wanted to do a roast for your birthday, but the girls are too brutal."

Sparks chortled at the comment and patted the armrest. "You've got that right."

"And I'm sure this play is going to be a whole lot funnier since we've had a few."

"That was the intention," Anna's voice floated from a few seats down, having a singsong tone to it. "And you said a wet bar in a car was a bad idea."

Her male teammate's gaze narrowed. "I thought if we hit a bump or something we might spill liquor on us and then walk out smelling like booze and then people will think we were hitting it too hard. _And _the fact that two of some drinks can get you legally drunk. And you, young lady, _your_ whiskey glass was pretty full, if I might say."

"Quite frankly, I didn't even know Anna drank bourbon."

"Of course I drink bourbon! What, you think it's still 1960, Antauri?" She brushed off the fellow commander's comment. "You looked like I had just taken off my dress or something."

Novo snorted and laughed. "Then Annie, you have never seen what a guy actually looks like when he sees a girl take her dress off, because that was _not_ what Antauri looked like. He looked like a cow that sees the headlights of an oncoming train, but when a man sees a woman, he looks far more stupid. Besides, we can see a lot of you, anyway."

"NOVO." The slate female burst in laughter and leaned back in her seat.

"Let's just say this–" The golden man dropped his tone to low and concise. "If Gilson or Etta was wearing that, the last thing on our minds would be watching a play."

Etta wheezed as she tried not to burst with loud, obnoxious laughter. She bent over and held herself, rapidly tapping her feet on the floor in attempting to rid the energy. Her date leaned over to see if she was alright, even put a hand on her shoulder and asked such. At this, she popped back up and pinched his chin, but not enough to hurt, only to shake his head.

"Ya don't 'ave ta look fah ta see some bristols, do ya?" she cackled.

"…What?" Antauri stared at her, perplexed. "What are bristols?"

The teal woman put her face only inches from his, a flirtatious smile on her face. "I think you know," she carefully enunciated every word. As she leaned back, she shook her shoulders. "Or you con at _least_ figure it out, love. Use ya bonce, birthday boy."

Sparks, on the other hand, wasn't listening and continued the conversation in the group surrounding him. "–It'd be kinda hard to have a bar fight when there's only a wet bar in a limousine. You could kick people, I guess, but only the person sitting next to you."

"Yeah, that's what we shoulda done. Gone to a bar and get blackout drunk." Novo chuckled in musing the notion. "'Cause there ain't anything greater than getting into a bar fight. You are just not a true man until you get into a good ol' fashioned bar fight."

"Oh, really?" Anna leaned forward to look. "So what does that make Antauri and Gibson?"

"Froofy excuses for men." The Powersquad combatant narrowed his gaze, then put on a classic English accent, pantomiming holding a glass. "I say, Antauri, I think the weather suits my fancy today." He switched his tone to be lower. "Ah, yes, I do believe you're quite right. Fine weather we're having." He nodded. "Indubitably." He continued to go back and forth with the voices. "Hm, I say, Gibson, I do believe this sandwich is rather moist." For a moment, he interjected with his own comment. "Don't _talk_ about the food, dammit, _eat it_! Men _eat _their food, women _talk _about their food and anything else in worldly existence!"

To define the speakers, the golden male would alternate where his gaze went to simulate two different people. "Ah, yes, I do agree with you, my friend, I dare say they put too many condiments on this sandwich." Another turn of his head. "I do propose that we have ourselves some drinks of brandy this evening. Oh, yes, brandy sounds splendid! But dare I say the brandy you fetched last time was far too bitter and I rather despised it. You despised it? I certainly did. In fact I think that your taste in brandy is rather primordial, to say the least. Well then, my friend, I say that you may choose the brandy this time. Indeed, I will." The combatant rolled his eyes and slammed back in his seat as emphasis. "Put on some monocles and handlebar mustaches and you're two friggin' storybook Englishmen. I swear that you guys are reincarnated from some kind of My Fair Lady era, and I don't even believe in reincarnation! _That's_ how bad you are!"

His commander raised her eyebrow. "And exactly _when_ did you get into a bar fight, Novo? Because there is no outstanding proof to say that you've even gotten into one."

"You are too decisive, woman. You are supposed to believe everything I say and not question me because I am a _man_." The jade green-eyed man retorted with a smirk on his face. "But if you must know, Sparks has proof by a receipt for a broken chair he paid for."

The slate female asked, "Is this information true, Sparks?"

"Yep. One hundred percent." Sparks said, nodding and smiling. "I would know because I smashed it over his head. That was the greatest feeling in the world."

Nova scoffed. "_You're_ telling me _you_ and _Novo_ got into a bar fight?"

"I can't imagine who won that one," Sparkey rolled her eyes and chuckled through her nose. "Lightweight pilot versus heavyweight martial artist. A bet even for non-betters."

The Agness native motor-boated her lips in a disbelieving noise. "Oh, yeah, lioke Novo's gonna be so ca'ordinated when ee's sloshed!"

"And you would be right in saying that nobody really won." Her male teammate finished the sentence. "We just kicked the crap out of each other until we couldn't move anymore."

"Es thot why ya blokes jus' stopped bick'rin' an' were sud'ly tha best o' chums?"

"Yep." Novo nodded at Etta's observation. "Because that is how _real _men work out their problems. You women, on the other hand, will get into one fight and be mortal enemies for the rest of your life, whereas men get into fights to _resolve _problems."

Antauri adjusted himself in his seat. "So despite the fact we've been into numerous combat situations, because it never took place in a bar setting, you don't consider us to be able men?"

"Nope." The other shook his head. "You two are wine-sipping pansies, not a man's man."

"Excuse me, why exactly would I want to be, quote unquote, 'A man's man?'" Gibson, whom had kept relatively quiet throughout the whole ordeal, put his fingers together and shook his hands in a pondering gesture. "See, this statement bothers me. This is a noun phrase. 'A' is the article and the word 'man's' is a possessive common noun acting as an adjective in this case. The main noun, or the subject, if it were in a sentence, would be 'man.' So, you are saying 'A man's.' A man's what? The man, in this case, owns something. You could replace the main noun, 'man' with any other thing. A man's apple. A man's pants. A man's chair. Meaning the man has possession of the apple, or his pants, or his chair. But in this case you are saying 'a man's _man_,' meaning a man that a man would own. Which leads me to believe that what this phrase implies is disgusting, undesirable, and completely uncalled for in formal company. In conclusion, good Sir, that I have no desire to be, as you say, 'A man's man.'"

The onyx male grinned, almost arrogantly. "I would agree."

"…What just happened?" Otto asked, his eyes wide in utter confusion.

Sparkey chuckled and whispered back to him, "Novo just got served."

"Oo, I just got a _grammar_ lesson!" The Powersquad combatant feigned a grimace and flailed his hands as if an offended child. "_So aggressive_, Mr. Geebsoh! What a good show! Etta, is there some creative word you have that would be the equivalent of a 'nerd?' Because whatever that word is, Gibson has just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he _is_ one, for all reason!"

The teal woman took a moment to think, gazing at Gibson and musing. "Well, norm'ly I'd say ee's ah boffin, but Gibson's tha smartest person I know, yes he is!"

"And that's what I was looking for 'cause he's being a wise guy!" Novo crossed his arms and then said in the proudest of ways possible. "You, Sir, are a _boffin_!"

"Nah he ain't! I jus' says so!" Etta protested. "A boffin es someone who's well _intelligent_ but ain't got no dress sense! When you say 'smaht' you mean 'brainy' but when _I _says 'smaht' I mean 'fashionable.' Dun ask me foh words only ta not believe what I says an' then tolk like a clot! I finks I know my own language, ya thick bloke!"

"Novo, just face it," Nova muttered, "You can't win today."

"On another note," Gibson faced to his left and made a gracious nod of his head. "I do thank you for the compliment, Etta. It's very kind of you."

"Naw, ees nofing but tha troof."

The golden male mumbled something to himself and then spoke up once more. "Fine, touché, I'm a moron, everyone already knows. Now at least tell me this. Even if you have never gotten into a bar fight, have you ever been drunk in your life?"

The blue simian nodded. "I'm certain I've been legally over the limit."

"Indefinitely." Antauri shrugged. "Two whiskeys in an hour can do that."

"I don't mean at point o-eight," the other scoffed. "That's only enough to get you too tipsy to drive. I mean fall-off-your-chair-when-you-try-to-get-up drunk."

The onyx male shook his head. "No, I don't believe I ever have, nor do I have interest."

"Wha– " Novo rolled his eyes. "That's it. I give up. I try to ask you every question possible to give you a chance to redeem yourself so we might respect your masculinity, and I cannot."

"You gentlemen can get as intoxicated as you want, Novo," the scientist smiled in a mockingly content manner. "But I, for one, acknowledge the fact that I do not desire to lose brain cells that cannot be regenerated. How unfortunate it is that those whom do not have any more than necessary utterly destroy what little they have, while the individuals with ones to spare are the only ones competent enough not to partake in such a pastime."

The Hyperforce commander feigningly tsked. "How very unfortunate, indeed."

"Now, now, boys," Anna admonished as a mother would with children. She reached on either side and took Antauri and Gibson's hands, raising them up and lightly tapping them against the seats. "No reason to continue with this matter, we all know that Novo is just being facetious and we're all slightly intoxicated adults, still with the capacity to jest without bickering."

"I didn't know we had that capacity even when completely sober."

The slate woman's gaze narrowed, her nose crinkled and her lips tightened in a manner that one could swear she was about to murder someone. "You are not helping, Sparkey."

"In fact I am, actually. Sparks is probably much, much worse with them, but when Novo teases people he rarely means it. Let the guys have their fun verbal banter even when the conversation goes to completely nerdy. At least it does not become violent and name-calling."

"Yeah, Annie!" Etta chimed in. "I'm well entertained, really! They should keep at it!"

Her commander hummed and tapped her two fists together as if gently clapping, still grasping the men's hands, and consequently earning strange looks from them, switching from the woman in between them and towards each other.

Novo silently snorted in trying not to laugh and leaned over. "Don't worry, you two, she does that all the time. It's a weird Annie thing. You never know where your hand's gonna end up. Especially when she's been drinking bourbon and the lights turn off for the show." The sort of sound one makes when a laugh escapes suddenly and from their nose erupted from all of them except the two men involved in the gesture. "What? All I'm saying is that they can't see!" His expression was then playfully condescending. "You people are sick."

The teal woman giggled. "Con I trade places wid ya, Annie?"

"Anna, this is a bit awkward." The male counselor said, tentative.

"Yes, I don't want my hand that close to another man's hand."

Anna had been giggling at Novo's comment, but then, Antauri and Gibson's protests made the silently furious expression arise again. She stopped tapping their bundles of fists together and paused, stroking the backs of their palms with her thumb. Suddenly, she hurled her hands backwards and hit them both square between the eyes. The tear-inducing, stinging sensation of one's nose being directly hit throbbed through their faces as they snatched back their hands to cover their muzzles. The woman crossed her arms and harrumphed.

Antauri groaned through a pinched nose. "I think I'd prefer you switch seats with Etta, now."

Of course on the way back home, all the party could talk about was the comedy they'd just seen, and all subjects relatively related to the occasion. Not only had it been awhile since the two teams had dedicated a day together, but after an event such as that, anyone was bound to be talkative. The Hyperforce had been told that they were going to dinner, so it was no wonder how curious they were when they realized they had been dropped off at the Battle Droid. No one seemed to say anything against it, not that the Powersquad would ever let the conversation go where they didn't want it to.

Taking trips in the transport pods was usually for combat or casual purposes, but when one was dressed, it would be uncomfortable and dishevel one's clothes. Nova murmured to Otto as they went down the hall, "I like our pods better. I feel claustrophobic in theirs."

Yet this thought was quickly overtaken by the powerful smell of food that immediately made everyone's mouths water. The smell was a spice mixture so exotic that one couldn't even guess what it was, but it was completely divine. As they entered the dining room, they saw the place had been decorated just for the occasion. The table was indigo with a gold runner and the chairs were draped with cloth, silverware was already set, and the napkins were folded into lotuses. There was an arrangement of white flowers in and around water-filled vases of floating candles, and petals were strewn all across the table. It was because of the ornate display that for several moments everyone in the room was completely silent.

A voice interrupted the silence. "Salut!"

They all spun around. In fact, due to his dress shoes, Sparks tripped and toppled down in the direction he was trying to turn. His side met the floor with a painful thud. He looked up to see Elaina, though not in the form he was expecting. She was clad in a white chef's jacket with a long black apron and a toque, though the most disturbing was the long, thin mustache she was twisting with her fingers.

"Bonsoir!" She had her voice lowered obnoxiously to imitate a man.

Normally the teams would have given her a strange look and wondered why she was in such a costume, but due to the past evening, all of them simply burst out into laughter.

"Mon nom est Gillette et je serai votre cuisinier de cette soirée très belle. {My name is Gillette and I will be your cook for this very fine evening.}" The woman used the grasp she had on the mustache to instantly rip it off of her lip. Just as quickly as they had stumbled upon her, she tore off her chef apparel. She was clad in a form-fitting fuchsia gown that dramatically flared just above her ankles to sweep the floor, with subtly shimmery material and lined with pink fur. After the show, she posed with a popped hip, one hand on her waist and the other outstretched above her. "Jus' keeding!" She folded the outer garments in her hand. "Vous like? Bray away apron. Belove' by chefs an' strippers all aroun'!"

"Gilson!" Novo pointed at her as if an infuriated boss. "I told you to pop out of a cake, dammit! I did _not_ say to role-play, much less cross-dress!"

"Cake eh too _meesy_." She whined melodramatically. "Eh roo-een my gow'!"

Her male teammate scoweled. "Said _just_ like a woman!" He squealed. "EH my DRESS."

"Gilson!" Otto was the first to approach her, greet her with a hug, and returned her kiss on his cheek. "You're here this time!" he exclaimed. "And you're wearing _pink_!"

"Of cor' I am 'ere! Eh yo day of ze birth!" The sky blue female made a single clap of her hands. "Oh, loo' ah all of vous! Vous ah all so dress up an' _'ansome_ an' _gohgeous_." She headed for the Hyperforce female and greeted her with an embrace, and when they released, she gave the other an inquisitive gaze. "Purple, iz my favor-eet. An' ze shape of ze dress, is perfeect for vous an' yo tone body shape." She squeezed the other's bicep in an admiring manner. "Show off yo shapely ahms. Trés magnifique! Vous know, purple an' yellow ah usually _horrifying_ togezher, buh vous make eet look goo'! Very goo'!"

A snort emitted from Nova's nose in holding back a laugh at the strange compliment, but by now she was used to it. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

The fuchsia-clad woman moved on to the Hyperforce commander, where her eyebrows rose with contemplation. "Hm. Silver bowtie an' waistcoa'. Eet lighteens vous. Good shob." As custom she exchanged a hug and kiss on the cheek, then her nostrils flared. "Hm. Nye cologne."

Antauri made a content smile. "Why, thank you. Citrus free."

The two made strange sounding chuckles, as if the sounds weren't actually a result of entertainment. Only Gibson knew of the time that his commander once commented of how a new perfume Elaina was sporting had been too strong and gave him a headache. In retaliation, she went through and ruined his cologne with lemon juice to disrupt its delicate balance and make it smell foul beyond all reason.

Thinking of this made him silently laugh as he greeted the fellow scientist, the gesture so quick his lips barely touched her cheek as they should have. "Oh, Geebsoh! So goo' to see vous! As always, vous ah absolutely perfeect, perfeect een ev'ry way. Clothes, fragahran, ah, vous is jus' _dah-sheen_! Secon' to noon, out of sigh, first ray, an' all ozher Anglais idee-oom." Try as he might have to come up with a response, no words came to him.

Once she greeted Sparks, he put on his best smile, his voice lowered to be curious and casual at the same time. "So, what about what Novo was talking about, hm?"

The woman gave a deep chest giggle and walked her fingers up his chest. "Ah, but many great shows 'ave intermissions, no?" She finished the gesture with a tap on his nose, then spun around to face the company. "All-rye, now 'oo did not 'ave day foh tonight? I would 'ave gone weez buh I was cooking, vous see."

"That was me." Otto raised his hand. "But it's okay, I had just as much fun!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, my love." The sky blue female came to him and put her hands on his cheeks. "Leh me may it up to vous." Without warning she knobbed her lips and then smashed her face into his own. The gesture was made with an obnoxious sucking sound as if straight from a cartoon, and she even put her arm behind his back and bent him over as if a melodramatic movie scene. It seemed to last abnormally long, as if for comedic effect, before she finally ran out of suction and released him. In shock of what had happened the green male lost his balance and fell straight on his back, his head painfully colliding with a chair's legs.

"First Sparks, then Otto?" Etta laughed. "Gee, Gilson, what's wrong with you?"

The other chortled and clapped her hands in hilarity. "I do not know! I mus' 'ave zis effeh on men." Novo stepped in and helped the other up. "Ah vous all-rye, ma cher?"

Otto giggled and was red in the face, from embarrassment or otherwise. "I'm fine! I just got a _really _surprise smooch, but I'm fine!"

"Dee vous 'urt yo 'ead?" Elaina cooed and rubbed the spot he was holding, grasped his tie and bent him downward so she could press her lips against the spot.

The engineer put his hands on his hips, his lips puckered and his eyes narrowed in a playful suspicion. "You just like kissing people, don't you, Gilson?"

She giggled, raised her hand, and shrugged. "I'm Franch, wha' do vous expeh?"

Sparks's gaze narrowed, and he frowned in annoyance. "Not. Fair."

"What?" His date's eyebrows furrowed. "For once I actually _let_ you take me by the arm and flirt and wink at me and that's not _good_ enough for you?"

"And it's been awesome! But you didn't give _me_ a smacker, did you?"

The pink female rolled her fingers for him to see. "Oh, I'll give you a smacker, alright."

"Sierra! Do no tay it so _personally_!" the female scientist implored. In a complete turnaround of mood, she spun extravagantly and then scurried towards the kitchen. "Come, come! Everyone seet! Seet, seet! Vous ah jus' in time!" She promptly disappeared into the kitchen.

"Oh… no…" Gibson muttered, his eyes widened as if he had just received terrible news. He absentmindedly took his date by the hand and led her around the table. She asked him what the matter was. "I had no idea that you'd be hosting us for dinner."

"Indeed." The green-eyed man agreed with him. "I thought we would be going to a restaurant of some sort. Is there any chance I could slip out for a few minutes?"

"Oh, boys," Anna giggled in a comforting manner. "It's _your_ birthday! _You're _the one receiving gifts. And it was meant to be a surprise, so you wouldn't have any way of knowing. It's all fine, I assure you. None of us were expecting anything."

Sparks sported a befuddled snarl. "What are you guys talking about?"

"It's always polite that when someone invites you over, you should bring the host or hostess a small gift. And in Rosario, this is a strict custom no matter what the occasion."

"O-Oh!" The green male exclaimed at his leader's comment, his expression and tone one of a personal epiphany. "So _that's_ why you guys always bring flowers when we come here!"

"Why else would we?" The scientist scoffed. "What? You thought we brought her bouquets to butter her up? Because we _felt_ like it? Because we want to _woo_ her?"

The male pilot muttered, "That's _exactly_ what I thought, actually."

"Aw, yeah, Gilson and I were laughin' about that, once," Novo chuckled in memory. "You guys had come over for dinner and you gave us thirteen roses. I was helping her in the kitchen and she busts out laughing and I asked her why, and she said it was funny you acknowledged the fact it's customary to give flowers, but thirteen is unlucky. It's like saying– " He pantomimed handing someone a bouquet. "Here, I hope you fall into a ditch."

The blue male gasped and put a hand over his mouth. "You're joking!"

"Totally not joking." The golden male shrugged. "But Gilson's all cool about it, she knew you didn't mean anything by it. She's always been cool about that kinda stuff."

Gibson looked up to see that the Rosario native had come back with a silver platter hoisted at her shoulder. One by one she made her way around the table and set cocktail glasses, the drinks colorless with an orange piece floating at the bottom. "Elaina, is this true?" he asked, assuming she'd heard the conversation. "That thirteen roses are considered unlucky?"

At first the woman gave him a strange look, but then, she laughed at realizing what he was referring to. She casually waved it off. "Eet acshually ees, buh I no zink anyzing of eet."

"I blame _you_, Antauri!" the blue male pointed across from him. "_You_ got them!"

Antauri put his face in his hand and chuckled. "I didn't even spare a thought to it. I was in a hurry and all they had were dozens, two dozens, and singles. I knew it was customary to get an odd number of roses, and getting two dozen was going to be too large to act as a centerpiece. So I simply got a dozen and a single. It didn't even occur to me that made thirteen and what it could mean in other cultures. I was just content that I was a problem solver for the time being."

"Ees all-rye. Ees kind vous zink aboo' geeting zhem. Mos' Shuggazoo' dun care."

Nova sipped her cocktail, and an amazed expression came over her face. "Wow! I can't remember the last time I've had something this smooth. What is it?"

"Voodka."

"Vodka? You're serious?" The blonde female looked at her glass in awe. "Gosh, I didn't know vodka could taste like this. I usually hate vodka. I think I've found my new favorite drink."

"Merci," the fuschia-clad simian finished passing out the cocktails and went back into the kitchen. When she emerged she had another platter and began to serve the dish. "Munchies!" she announced in a singsong fashion, and over each plate she set a small rack of three cones, not even the size of one's thumb. They were filled with a pink substance and topped with leaves.

Otto clapped his hands. "They look like itty bitty ice cream cones!"

"Fee' free to star' eating vhen vous all serve." The female looked up towards her commander. "I dun zink we 'ave a 'ead of table zis evening." The other nodded in agreement.

The Hyperforce scientist bore a befuddled expression. "You mean you won't be joining us?"

"Chef does no' eat weez guests, Geebsoh." She replied, just as she served his portion. "No worry aboo' me. I 'ave been sampling foo' all day. I am fine." After she finished with the table, she spun around back to the kitchen. "Yo entrée be ou' shor'ly."

"Dang," Sparks said as she left. "This has got to be the tiniest appetizer I've ever had."

"This ain't tha appetizah!" Etta corrected. "This is tha pre-suppah cocktail. She jus' said tha first course would be out shor'ly."

"…No. She said the entrée was gonna be out shortly. Appetizer is the first course."

"Nah it ain't!" the teal woman cackled. "You Shuggas sure made thot one inta dog's dinnah! An entrée is the _first_ course, or what you call the appetizer. What you call the _entrée_ being the _main_ course, is just not roight. Not only because thot's whot it means in French, but thot's whot eh means in everywhere else _but_ here. Tha main course is either called tha main course, or plat principal in French. Tha only thing _you_ got right was where_ dessert_ is, to no surprise."

"My thingy tastes funny!" Otto said, smacking his lips. "It tastes like wax!"

Nova slowly raised her eyebrow. "You sure that's not Gilson's lipstick?"

The engineer's eyes widened, and ever so slightly he stuck out his tongue and ran it over his lips. He grimaced, picked up his knife, and looked at his distorted reflection. Sure enough, Elaina's plum-pink makeup had rubbed off on his lips. He rapidly retrieved the cloth napkin from his lap and desperately scrubbed at his mouth.

On the other end of the table one could swear that Gibson was about to shoot himself in embarrassment of such a blatant disregard to table manners. To his right, Anna seemed to sense this. She made a silent gesture of sliding her hand under his and squeezing his palm reassuringly. The two sat for a moment, but the woman didn't release her grasp from his. The man somehow felt self-conscious when it lasted for longer than he had anticipated.

He was never quite sure the relationship he had with her, or what she might have thought of him. When they were first getting to know each other they would have many long talks, and began to do things such as get coffee or meet for lunch. At first it was casual, but then their relationship grew into companionship. Things were nice, but the mutual sense of awkwardness had slowly crept up on them, and their meetings gradually dissipated to every once in awhile. They were replaced with group functions with Etta, Elaina, or Antauri joining them, and in those they found themselves much more comfortable, therefore more enjoyable.

Back to what was happening now, the platonic and friendly gesture of holding her hand was peculiar. He felt silly and immature for feeling like that, but it didn't change. With a gulp, he retreated his hand and finished off his pre-dinner snack.

Soon enough Elaina came in once more, humming to the piano music played in the background, and the first course began. She removed the racks and the cocktail glasses and replaced them with a small, square dish of two oysters, stuffed and drizzled with a small dot of sauce on the side. She also went through and poured small amounts of wine to go with the meal, and all was silent as everyone ate. Everyone was done rather quickly, and that was when the second course followed, a yellow soup with a brown slab of meat served with a completely different wine. Then the third came, one of salmon and cucumbers with a white wine.

It was apparent at this point that some of the guests were confused. Each meal that was served was tiny, not even enough to feed a child. Of course every one of them was no less than wonderful, but it was annoying that it wasn't long before one's plate was empty. Then time would be given to sip the accompanying wine and talk amongst one another, but this only made the food feel even less filling. Mainly Sparks and Otto seemed to be the ones to feel this way, either that, or everyone else was good at hiding it.

Directly across from them, Novo was sat, whom which the pilot decided to strike up a conversation. "I feel like we're in a gag comic," he said with a snicker. "Because she keeps giving us new plates and I'm _still_ hungry."

The male combatant made a chuckle and finished his wine. "Well, I can't say I don't agree with you. All I know is she got up at, like, three AM this morning to make all this."

"Three AM?" The crimson male echoed. "Why the heck was she up at three AM?"

"Beats me. Ask Etta."

"Etta?" Sparks craned his head as far as table manners would let him go. He didn't continue until he saw the other acknowledge him. "Why was Gilson up at three AM?"

"Pass. Tha only way I knew was 'cause I 'eard her get up this mornin' an' she yelled out somefing in French 'cause she stubbed her toe. I went out an' she's sittin' there with 'er fancy cashmere robe, an' it been stained 'cause she tripped an' she 'ad a mug o' coffee an' it splashed on 'er an' she wos cursin' up a storm in French, or at least I fink so. I fought I swept in on accident 'cause she's na'_torious_ fo sleepin' in real late like. She said it was three, an' at first I fought she meant three PM, but then I knows thot Elaina uses Agg time, not Shugga time, an' then I asked her why she wos up an' she said 'cause she had ta cook. Thot's awl I know."

"Oh, yeah," Sparkey chuckled. "And then it seemed like she was doing things to make it all week. Doing all this stuff in the kitchen, chopping stuff, smoking stuff, and we'd come in and ask what she was doing and she'd say 'Making dinner.' Then we'd ask her what was for dinner and she said 'You'll find out on Saturday.'"

"Oh, oh!" Anna joined with the story. "And she had all of these things in the refrigerator of meats or things that were soaking or whatever, in these glass dishes that took up all this space. And on each one she had a sticky note that said, 'Laissez-faire!'" Everyone at the table lightly chuckled at the comment, at least, but a few of them were harshly laughing, as if it was some reference that meant a lot more than it seemed.

It was in observing the company wasn't laughing as harshly that Antauri stepped in with a curt explanation. "'Laissez-faire,' in French, means 'Hands off' or 'Leave it be.' The reason it is amusing is because the term laissez-faire is most widely known for being used in the context of government. Such as, you could say Shuggazoom is a laissez-faire government, meaning a hands-off government when it comes to social issues. The phrase originated when Rosarian peasants became tired of having their king and government dictating their personal lives. That phrase was their slogan when they revolted, and has been coined since."

The slate female continued to giggle. "She is so witty. I love her."

Nova snickered, "So can I yell out that phrase when Sparks takes the TV remote?"

"Indeed you can!" her commander agreed. "As long as it doesn't become violent."

"But didn't you say the peasants revolted, which usually means violence…?"

The female engineer cackled. "Nova _does_ have a point."

Elaina entered with another course just as they least expected it. This one was hot with scallops and shrimp dressed to look absolutely delicious. As she had done many times before, she swapped the old plates with the new ones, switched out the wine, and this time removed some of the used glasses.

When she came to Antauri, she muttered, "Woo' vous like meat er substitute zis time?"

"Oh, I suppose it's a special occasion, and from what I hear, it would be an insult to not sample what you worked very hard on. I can make an exception." The onyx male paused to let her replace his old plate, then observed as she poured a dark pink beverage into his glass. "Might I ask what the wine was? The one in the previous course?"

"Eh…" the other thought for a moment. "'76 Gura-Fran Moscato."

"Ah. I was very impressed with that one. Can I assume it's imported?"

"Oui. Lillithian. I usually vah-ree picky weez white wine becau' a lot of zem ah not very bol'. Zhere ah a lot of moscatos I lye, buh some of zem, zey ah too sweet. Zhere is also a sparkling version of eet zhat I absolutely _adoh_. I bring vous bottle, no?"

The meal went on as scheduled, but they soon found the four courses to begin with were just the beginning. Everything from meats such as lamb or beef, to things that couldn't even be recognized, were set out for them, and it seemed to be endless. Even Sparks and Otto were quickly beginning to feel full.

As he watched Elaina set down another plate, he groaned and put his hand over his face. "No, please, no more…" he grumbled, as if helpless. Had he been looking he would have seen the woman's fur had bristled with anger, her gaze becoming livid and her chest puffing out. "The food's great!" he said. "I don't have to season it or anything. But dang, go ahead and fatten us up to eat, why don't you?" In understanding, the fuming stance she had subconsciously made dissipated in an instant. A mere smile and a shake of her head followed. When he looked to his next course, a black and dark red dish with a white, frothy substance, he made a face as if it were food for aliens. "Gilson, why does my food have rabies?"

"Ees soy, ma cher."

The pilot nodded. "And what have you been feeding us, exactly?"

The sky blue female gave a chuckle as she rounded the table. "Een Rosario, we 'ave saying. 'If vous like ze foo', do no' ask wha eet is.'"

Anna grinned pleasantly. "Let us rest in saying the food is perfectly safe for consumption."

A disturbed expression crossed Sparks's face. "…Is that seriously a phrase in Rosario?" he gave a forced chuckle. "Or are you just messing with me?"

"A lee-tle beet of bozh." The makeshift waitress gave a tsk as she poured wine into the male engineer's glass. "What is wrong, Otto? Vous loo' seeck."

"I'm just getting really full," the green male muttered.

"Oh, do no despair. One moe itty bitty cour' after zis, an' off to dessert. And zhen, prwesants!"

For comedic effect, the golden male waited for his teammate to leave before asking the question, "So, Sparkey, how much dessert did we have last time Gilson did a dinner like this?"

In sensing the scheme, the female pilot gave a sly smile and looked directly in Otto and Sparks's direction. "Oh, well, there was chocolate, ice cream and mints, fruit and cheese… Four courses, I believe. And it _is_ their birthday, so Annie made a cake." She specifically turned her head so she was as close to her date as she could be. "Oh, and you know that old tradition that children had to eat everything on their plate? Well, guess where that originated from?" She exclaimed with a foolishly happy expression, "And we totally don't have to season the food! Good thing, too! 'Cause if you season this food, Gilson will smack you."

"She's a snotty Rosie!" The tone in which Etta said this indicated that it wasn't an insult, so much as it was simply an address. She shook her head and paused to partake in her dish. Afterwards she laid her head on Antauri's shoulder, snuggling into him as if she were a kitten. "Ya blokes always make funna 'Tauri and Gibson fo being so knowledgeable an' prissy when it comes ta etiquette an' mannahs, buh who's laughin' _now_? They roight gentlemen, yes they ah."

"That's very flattering, Etta," Antauri gave her a warm, albeit slightly awkward smile. He had expected for her to release from her position, but instead she stayed there, closing her eyes and humming. Due to her being so close to him, he wasn't comfortable with eating, and allowed her several moments to stop before he said, "Um, I would like to eat before my food gets cold."

"Naw, but you smells real good."

"I would like everyone to imagine a gender-reversal in this situation." Novo boldly interrupted, a blank and perhaps even patronizing expression. "Just imagine, Antauri snuggling into Etta's shoulder and saying," he lowered his voice to mimic the Hyperforce commander. "'Hey, Etta, you smell good.'" He frowned as everyone immediately began to laugh at the thought of something so ridiculous. "All of us would think he'd be a no-good sleazebag, right? But when _Etta_ or any little _lady_ does it, it's _flattering_." He then put on a curt expression and went back to his plate. "I just wanted to offer that bit of insight."

Nova put her face in her hands. "You can impersonate Antauri way too well."

"I woul'n't mind 'Tauri tellin' me I smells good," the teal female giggled.

"Then allow me to respond with your native dialect." The combatant cleared his throat. "Ya keep ya knickahs to yerself ya wee li'le HAH-LET." He allowed the laughter to erupt and then die down before going on. "I swear, I have listened to Etta talk for so long now, that if someone put a gun to my head and told me to go to Agness and talk and walk like an Agg and not let on that I wasn't from there, I would _live_! 'Cause I can speak Agg, darn it!" He reached for his wine glass, but before he sipped, an idea came to his head. He put on a charming smile with coy eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "Hey, Sparkey," he said with his Antauri-like voice and a suggestive wag of his eyebrow. "You look good in that dress."

Sparkey completely lost her composure, even snorted a occasionally. Despite protocol, she slapped at the table and put her head down. "That's not funny!" she cried.

"Why _is_ that so funny?" the crimson male beside her held a shocked expression.

Novo smirked. "Sparkey knows. Novo knows. We are the only people that need know."

The Hyperforce combatant, on the other hand, nearly spat out her sip of wine and put her face into her hands. "Oh, God," she whined. "I'm gonna have nightmares, now…"

Sparks cackled. "Get him drunk enough and those nightmares might be _reality_, sister!"

"Why would that be a nightmare?"

The table went silent, and all eyes were on Anna. Some were stunned, some were amused. Immediately she shrunk in her seat as if wishing to be an armadillo and roll away. She put her hands over her face and shook her head. "That came out completely wrong…"

The female pilot pointed at her. "Too late! You said it!"

"Well, it would be like if Antauri started acting like Sparks! Or if Sparks somehow got Antauri's voice! And I don't have nightmares of either of them!"

"So you have fantasies, then?"

The commander halfway gasped and squealed at the golden male's comment. "NO."

"That proves it!" Sparkey shook her head. "Look at 'er, all squeaky and blushing."

The jade-green eyed man snickered. "Yeah, Annie's a man eater. I know she looks all sweet and innocent and that _none of you_ believe me, but Annie's a _man_. _Eater_."

"I am _not_!"

"You have coffee with Antauri, wine with Gibson, dinner with Sparks, lunch with me, and errands with Otto," Novo listed as if it were memorized, then concluded in singing, "_Maneater_!"

Otto giggled. "I thought you said she was a ninja! She even jumped me the other day!"

"She is a ninja man eater disguised as a nineteen fifties housewife."

The slate female got a venomous look in her eyes, and in spite turned to her pilot. "Excuse me then, why were _you_ laughing when Novo was wooing you in _Antauri's_ voice, hm?!"

"'Cause Antauri has a sexy voice. I won't lie." The pink female replied, shamelessly, too. "And I have told him that to his face. I would listen to that man read the alphabet. And if you, Annie, even _try_ to say anything contrary to that, then you_. Lie_."

"Whelp, I guess it'll be easy for ya to get Sparkey a present next time," Novo addressed the man being talked about and mimicked holding a recorder in his hand. "A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J…" He pressed an imaginary button on his palm and then pantomimed giving it to the woman across from him. "Here you go, Sparkey." He rubbed his fist on his chest as if polishing his fingers, and gave a proud smile. "I made it myself."

"O-Oh!" Completely oblivious to the conversation, Otto picked up a shining, clean fork. "Gilson's giving us new forks each course, isn't she? 'Cause I keep trying to work my way in with the forks like Antauri said and then I keep ending up with a new one…"

"Indeed. Because if she set out all of the silverware for each course she wouldn't have nearly enough table space," the Powersquad commander replied in a curt manner. "How about the wine? Does everyone like the wine sampling menu? All of them you can get on Shuggazoom."

"I really liked the muscadine!" the Hyperforce engineer nodded rapidly, and didn't seem to notice the surprised glances that came his way. "It's always been my favorite. I don't know where it comes from or anything else, but I really liked it with the beef. Or whatever it was."

Gibson stared at the other, quite surprised. His naïve teammate had actually said something intelligent for once. He exchanged a glance with his leader, who was equally as impressed.

"Ain't that funny, ya like whatcha know. Muscadine is ac'tally native ta Shuggazoom!" Etta piped up. "'Cause it thrives in ya God awful heat, but on other planets it's too cool for 'em. Used ta make a lot o' ports an' dessert wines, but this one's ac'ually a table wine variety."

"How did you– " the scientist was still in a state of shock, and was second guessing if he was hallucinating. "How did you recognize it was muscadine, Otto?"

The green male shrugged. "Dunno! I can't recognize other wines for the life of me, but I always recognize muscadine. I think by the aftertaste; I'm not sure."

"Ah, oui, muscadine," Elaina's voice floated from the kitchen as she returned with another platter and bottle of wine, starting with him to flip the course. "A vah-ree 'omely wine, eef I do say so myself, buh small piece of gol'. You 'ave wines 'ere zhat can rival zhat of even Rosario, an' we ah wine capital, no? Buh I love eh becau' it wah bol', dry, but no' beeter lye many ozher ones I 'ave. I felt lye eet woul' be criminal to no' 'ave Shuggazoo' wine at a day of ze birth party with natives to Shuggazoo, no? Ze land, eet must be lace' weez ze meal."

Otto smacked his lips, not having a clue about the deep meanings of the things she said, only a vague idea. He gave a happy smile. "Well, I can't talk that fancy, and it's even worse you're better with words, because you're not from here. So I don't know how to reply to that. Um…" his eyed batted and he bore an almost childlike expression. "You're really smart, the wine's really nice, at least I think, but I don't drink wine that much, and your cooking is awesome! I thought you'd only be good at croissants!"

Just in the moment that his blue teammate had gained more respect for his intelligence, it was gone instantly. If he could, he would have slammed his head against the table or the wall. His fingers dug into his pants to the point it was painful. Yes, there was nothing he could have done to control or prevent it, and it wouldn't make himself look any more or less intellectual. But when Otto, or other members of the team made mistakes like that in the Powersquad's company, especially when he was present, he was embarrassed for all of them.

Yet instead of a roll of the eyes or a scoff, Elaina only gave a lovely smile and a dip of her head as she finished serving the table with Sparks as the last. "Well, I am vah-ree glad zhat I can may zis occasion special fo' vous, my love. Ees my grea' pleasure. An' I am vah-ree flatter."

The next courses came out just as they had been predicted. It seemed that in the very moment their stomachs would settle from being overwhelmingly full, yet another course would come. When it was announced they were having their last item, a collective sigh of relief, and perhaps a bit of disappointment, was silently given. When it was over, none of the guests had the slightest clue what would follow. All eyes subconsciously looked to Anna because she had been inadvertently leading things aside from the meal. Just before someone was about to ask, yet again the Powersquad scientist emerged from the kitchen with her platter, but this time, the platter was filled with drinks. They were Irish coffee glasses with a warm brown drink garnished with a cinnamon stick and orange peel.

"Oo, thot looks nummy!" Etta made an excited clap of her hands as the drink was gently placed in front of her. "Whot es it?"

"Ees Pomegranate Tuddy." The sky blue female smiled. "May weez fresh dah-jhelling tea, branzee, an' pomegranate liqueur."

"Geez, Gilson," Nova chuckled and shook her head as she was served. "You trying to get us drunk? We've already had a few cocktails and we've been sipping wine all evening!"

"An' zis eh pos' suppah co'tail." The chef curtly replied. "Las' one for now, I pwomise."

"If we've all been drinking…" the blonde female's eyebrows furrowed. "Then how're we gonna get home?"

"I 'ave no' been drinking!" Elaina announced enthusiastically. "I dry vous!"

"No you will _not_." The blue male protested, his eyes wide with rebuke but a half smile on his face. "I would rather take my chances driving illegally over the limit, getting arrested, and spending a night in _prison_, than be in a car with a perfectly sober _you_ behind the wheel."

Curiously enough, Otto was the first one to start hysterically laughing at the statement, nearly spitting out the initial sip of his drink. Tears immediately ran down his eyes and the laughter was so hard that it came out in wheezes instead of actual sounds. People at the table didn't know whether to look at the scientist or the engineer of the Hyperforce.

"There– There was this one time…" the green male wiped his eyes and tried to calm his laughter. "There was this one time that– that Anna called Gibson and asked him to teach Elaina how to drive, because Elaina had to get a driver's license. And I guess Anna thought Gibson's the best driver out of all of us, and him being strict with the rules and stuff would help. Ah– And I was in the backseat…" Just at the thought of it he burst into his intense, silent laughter again and couldn't finish the story for himself.

Gibson groaned at the mere thought. "I saw my _life_, _flashing_ before my eyes."

"'Ey, now," Elaina put a fist on her hip. "Zhat mi' all be true, buh laissez-moi vous dire {let me say this.} Een all my time on Rosario, I _neever_ go' een accident."

The other's face dropped as if he were shocked, but in all actuality he was being sarcastic. He grasped on the edge of the table he leaned forward, his eyebrows raising. "…On your scooter," he nodded, an agape smile of mockery emerging. "You can ride scooters on the sidewalk, Elaina." He shook his head. "You don't even need a _license_, to ride a scooter."

The woman muttered. "Tais-toi. {Shut up.}"

"I was prepared to put that all aside to teach you, but instead you decide to _argue_ with me on _everything_ I said to you. Well, then, if you already knew so much about how to drive on Shuggazoom streets, then why did you require my instruction? Oh yes, because you, indeed, do not know, and nearly got everyone killed."

Otto had finally calmed himself down after recollecting on the incident. "Those two were yelling and screaming like a married couple fighting over directions! They would stop in the middle of the road just so they could argue. And Elaina nearly hit a speed limit sign and then Gibson had to _yank_ the wheel from her! Another time they came to a stop sign and she wasn't stopping because no one was there and then Gibson threw his leg over the armrest and slammed the brake. And he had to take his seatbelt off, so he face-planted into the dashboard! Ah– And then down the road Elaina did something, I forget what, that made Gibson go completely crazy. He _threw_ the gear out on her, snatched the parking brake on and kept screaming 'Get out of the car! Get out of the car!' He got out and opened the driver's door and the two screamed at each other at the tops of their lungs for like, five minutes straight. And I swear he would've pulled her out of there himself if she didn't finally get fed up with him and quit!"

Elaina put on a corny smile. "Ees okay now, Geebsoh an' I steel love each ozher. An' I 'ave 'ad my per-meet fo' fi' monz now, so…"

The blue male put on a fake, dry laugh, then ended it with a sharp, "No. Because in the UPC, not only does one drive on the left side of the road, but traffic signals are a mere _suggestion_."

Etta laughed nearly manically. "Good fing I learned _mwy_ driving from Spahkey!"

"On a side note," the female mentioned slowly interrupted. "Love the toddies, girl."

The makeshift waitress put on a friendly smile, swinging the skirt of her dress and said in a cooing way, "I puh cinnamon in eh, jus' fo vous! Becau' I love vous!"

"You love me," the pink female echoed, as if agreeing. "Everyone does. And obviously everyone loves your drinks so much they forget that we hired a limousine service."

"I _did_ forget that…" Nova snorted and put her face in her palm. "I'm a moron."

The teal female grinned, "But at least we gots a good sto'ey out of it! An' then not o'ly won't ya 'ave to worry about gettin' 'ome, but you can jus' get _moe_ plastered in tha cah!"

Novo snapped his fingers, goofily grinning. "Because hangovers are the best birthday gifts!"

"Speaking of birthday gifts," Anna cleared her throat, then clasped and pointed her hands in front of her in a perfectly lady-like fashion. "After we're all finished with our lovely after supper cocktails, I'd like for us to adjourn to the living room, where we'll start with presents and then some cake. The living room is the one without the television. You remember?"

"Wait, what?" Sparks gawked at her in disbelief. "Presents? I thought the dinner and the movie– " he chuckled and shook his head. "I thought the dinner and the _play_ were the presents!"

"Me, too!" his female teammate added, "And I think I'm way too full to eat cake."

"Ah, those were just the events to do for the day. Of _course _you have presents! And the night is still young, it's at least half past seven!"

Nova's voice lowered. "You're telling me we've been sitting at this table for three hours?"

"Well, yeah," the pink simian nodded. "I mean, think about it. We got here a little past four. About a dozen courses at fifteen minutes apart makes three hours right there."

"Man, I didn't even…" the Hyperforce combatant bent her elbow behind her and put her wrist on the armrest. "I would've never guessed. I am just not used to eating this way!"

"Ya nice and full now, Sparks?" Novo leaned back and drummed his fingers against the table, biting his lip in a facetious smile. The pilot shook his head and rolled his eyes, though a snicker of defeat was on his face. "Otto?" he raised his chin towards the other, who had barely mustered to sip the tea mix in front of him. Then he turned his gaze towards the two more sophisticated members of the team, and merely laughed as he saw their expressions. "Aw, just look at Antauri and Gibson, all smilin' and stuff, like the cheeky bastards they are. They're like," he leaned back and made a scoffing, spitting noise. "Pft, yeah, I totally knew it. I'm skinny, so I can fit moe food than you. I got my crap together. Whada you got? Huh? Whada you got?"

"Well," Antauri nodded and raised his glass. "The supper was absolutely magnificent. I'm sure that none of us could have asked for anything better. I wanted to see if before we leave we could properly thank Elaina for the meal."

"Gigi!" Anna called, met with no answer. She straightened her dress. "Oh, she's probably busy cleaning up and expecting us to leave. Allow me to excuse myself and fetch her."

Her date arose to pull out her seat as custom, but then another idea came to him as he observed her drink. "Oh, no, you've barely touched your cocktail. Allow me." The other opened her mouth to say something, but he had already rounded the end and was heading for the kitchen. She shrugged, as there was no use in arguing with him, anyway.

When Gibson entered the kitchen, a plethora of smells overtook his nose, so many, that he didn't know what to make of it. Everything from the aroma of raw meat to pungent chopped and cooked spices to freshly shaved chocolate and mint. Individually they might have been wonderful, but everything mixed together was rather unpleasantly pungent for one's nose.

On the other hand, the acting chef was wearing the full body apron she had sported before, hunched over amid loading the dishwasher. Without even looking, she said, "Annie, je suis encore tout nettoyer et je vous ai dit que je serai là pour vous rejoindre dès que je peux. Il est difficile de croire qu'ils sont tous fait avec leurs cocktails. Ne vous inquiétez pas pour moi, je vais sortir sous peu, allez simplement les divertir. {Annie, I am still cleaning everything up and I told you I'll be out to join you as soon as I can. I have a hard time believing they're all done with their cocktails. Don't worry about me, I'll be out shortly, just go entertain them.}"

The scientist tried to think of some sort of snappy way to reply, but nothing came to him. He thought what to say before replying. "Oh, non, nous n'avons pas fini avec nos boissons. Et nous n'avons pas besoin de se divertir, que nous sommes occupés déjà. {Oh, no, we're not done with our drinks. And we need not be entertained, as we are occupied already.}"

The woman's eyes widened in slight surprise and it took her a moment to realize his presence. When she faced him, she took a knife from her apron's belt and pointed it at him, twisting her wrist. "Vous n'êtes pas censé être ici. {You are not supposed to be here.}"

The man made a small laugh, then heard the sound of a delicate "Mew!" come from beside him. On the kitchen peninsula, none other than the Powersquad's dear Birman, Sapphire, was perched. She was as elegant as could be with her long, luxurious coat and the eyes that lived up to her name. She sported a collar made of white lace, crystal studs and pink cloth roses. Seeing this made him chuckle. Every time he saw the pet, she had on a different neckpiece, and he wondered how much the Powersquad invested just to dress up their precious cat. She sat and looked at him expectantly, her head even titling to the side. The simian smirked and gave her a brief scratch on her head before turning his attention towards the other.

"Peut-être. Mais– {Perhaps. But–}" The blue male suddenly felt a quick pain on his finger. He snapped his gaze towards the feline, whose opened mouth had recoiled. She began to purr and came to the very edge of the counter so she could rub herself against his chest.

"Mew!" she insisted, as if saying, "I'm here! Pet me!"

Gibson sighed and relinquished another brief scratch on her head, then put his hand on her side to gently slide her away from him. Of course, she came back, and this time she was so bold as to stand on her haunches and paw at his chest. He groaned in annoyance.

"Aw, vous pee-ting Saphir?"

Now he felt obligated, so he gave his best smile and stroked the cat on her back, even being friendly enough to scoop her into his arms. "But of course! How could one resist such a sheen, lush coat? Such a beautiful queen you have."

The woman hummed, continued about her work in the kitchen. "She loves to be loved." As she tossed knives into the sink, she switched the subject. "So vous came in 'ere for reasoh, no?"

The other blinked for a moment, then rapidly nodded his head. "Oh, yes! In honor of you making us such a splendid meal for the evening, Antauri would like to propose a toast."

The female gave him a blank look for a moment, then made a confused snarl. She hacked out her r's as the French did. "Hreally?" He nodded. "Well, zen." She clutched her chest and the sound of ripping Velcro led to her wadding up her apron and throwing it on the counter. "Allons-y. {Let's go.}" Gibson nodded and gently placed Sapphire down before he turned to exit the kitchen. Startling him, the woman gasped and cried, "Geebsoh! Geebsoh! Way! Way, way, way, way!" He was barely able to turn on his heel before she was at him with a lint roller in her grasp. She tsked as she swiftly ran it up and down his chest. "Vous jus' 'eld Saphir, an' 'ave 'er 'air all over vous. Hru-een a silk suit weez kitty 'air, vous crazy man."

She nodded in thought. "Zhose ah vah-ree rare, vah-ree 'ard to fin'. Vous 'ad to order it, no? Zhen go to tailor an' get it adjusted? An' zhen go back to tailor to get adjustments adjusted?" They exchanged light chuckles as she took his sleeve to de-fur it. "I knew man, ee ashually 'ad _wool_ allerghee. An' 'ee was no' going to wear cotteensuit, bleh, or God forbid, _polyester_. So all ee's suits, zhey were silk, an' ee always 'ad to custom order zhem." She ripped the paper from the roller and went to his other arm. "Anyway, turn arou'." She spun her finger to demonstrate this, then upon inspecting his back and perfecting it, she grasped his shoulders and spun him around. "Ohkay. Goo'. _Now_ vous may go ou'." She spun around and took a furry pink boa to wrap it around her neck and arms. When she glanced back, Gibson had a pleasant expression on his face, one she hadn't seen from him often. Her expression became curious. "Eh… Geebsoh?"

The scientist made a sigh and pondered if he should say anything. As a regular person he was nervous to say it, but logically he knew compliments were taken differently in her culture. Besides, she complimented him all the time. "To…" he swallowed the words, then spoke them quickly. "To say that you look dazzling this evening would be a gross understatement."

"Naw, merci. Vous ah too kin', Geebsoh."

* * *

**And that was Part 1 of 2. Hope you liked it! Please Read & Review!**


	2. Part II

**As said in the description, this story is two parts. Here is the second. Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Of Birthdays and Bashes Part II**_

A toast was made. The company finished their drinks, then dispersed into the living room.

"Yeah, I remember when we were staying here, I asked both Novo and Etta where the living room was," Sparks was saying. "Because I wanted to watch TV. So I get to the living room and I'm looking around for a TV and then I realize… the TV was a lie. 'Cause what you guys call the family room, we call the living room. Heck, I didn't even know there was a difference."

"Oye, livin' rooms are us'ally more formal-loike, ones fa entertaining guests, an' they dun't always have televisions in 'em. The family room is less formal, ya know, tha one Novo uses ta watch spohts and stuffs, 'er where Spahkey watches 'er soaps."

Novo snickered. "I'll even watch the Spanish soaps Sparkey watches. I like not knowing what they're saying and then adding my own words or listening to the music in the background. 'Hacks Sparkey off, but that's the fun of it."

"_You_ watch soap operas, Sparkey?" the blonde female had her eyebrow raised.

The one addressed nodded and shrugged. "Call it a guilty pleasure. And cop shows. My favorite is La Mariposa, or The Butterfly. That one's actually a cop show."

"We get so many friggin' foreign channels…" The combatant rolled his eyes. "Etta actually had to rig our television to switch between different cable providers. Elaina has all of these cooking channels, Sparkey's playlist has all her soaps, my channel list is either sports or sitcom channels, and Etta's channels have the funniest of Aggie comedy. We _all _love those."

"What about Annie?" Otto asked. "You mentioned them all but Annie!"

"A word of the wise. Never leave Annie in front of the TV after midnight."

"Leet us puh somezing in perspective," Elaina added onto her male teammate's comment, and was one of the few whom did not sit down once in the family room. Instead, she leaned herself over a loveseat and propped her elbows to fold her hands in front of her. "Zhe meal I jus' may vous. I only use chef keet, ze size of briefcase, no? It 'ad all my knives, all my tool, brush, graters, whisk, zings like zat. Zis does no' include pot, pans, deeshes, silv'are. Anyways, do vous know wha' taye up moe zhan seexty percen' of our entire cabinet spay?"

"Uh… food?" the male engineer blinked.

"No, no, my love. We ah team of weemon, no' men. Wha tay up all zhat space is Annie's _damn keechen gahgeets_. An' when eh boils down to it, do vous know wha' all zhose fancy dancy gadgets ah?" She frowned playfully. "Zhey ah all _knives_. All jus' fancy, electronic _knives_."

The Powersquad commander huffed. "You make it sound like I'm a shopping addict or something! Not everyone has the time and knowledge to do all of those things by hand!"

"No, no, no, _vous_ 'ave to tay ou' five diffahrent geezmos an' zhen clean zhem all up just to make suppah! Et tay so much time jus' fo' vous to assemble an' dissemble an zhen clean everyzing up an' it tay time an' spay in our dishwasher. Buh I 'ave my lee-tle knife set zhat takes all of _ten secon'_ to clean!" The other looked towards the Hyperforce in disbelief. "She 'as little _pwong_ zing, like, zwee pwong fo' nozing buh sturring! An' it may zis weird engine of ze car soun' when it rotaye in zhe pot!" She raised an imaginary spoon to her mouth, then smacked her lips. "Hm, great soup! Deed vous stir it weez _robots_?!"

"For being the chief of science on this team, it is both amazing and frightening to me how anti-technology you are! What, to keep someone's vitals, do you put your ear on their chest? Do you test someone's hearing by screaming at them?" The magenta-eyed female huffed and crossed her legs. "Not to mention that, oh, I don't know, _you're_ part mechanical yourself?"

"'Ey, 'ey, 'ey," the other's gaze narrowed. "Two zings. Fo' one, I am Rosarian. An' oh, I dunno, we only _foo' cap-eetal of ze worl'_. God forbeed if we know a zing or two. An' I nevah see _Shuggazoo'_ professional chef go on an' use ze crazy gahgeets vous sometimes geet."

"I have received many compliments on the food I make with those things, Gigi. And I'm not the only one that uses them, either! Especially with that new ninja blender– "

"WE 'AD TO PER-CHEESE MOE CABINEET JUS' TO FIT ALL YO' STUFF!"

"Woa, woa, woa, WOA!" Novo intervened, not laughing as perhaps expected. What the Hyperforce didn't know, was they had this argument many times before. "No catfights, or else I will pick your little butts up and haul you out of here, and don't think I won't. Everyone here is hammered except for you. And with your, I will say, _petite_, stature, that would only take a good whiskey to get you to shut up. I don't think the Hyperforce came here to watch you two fight."

The fellow combatant shrugged. "Not particularly, but I'm entertained, either way."

"Where're the kids?" Sparks asked, as he was gazing at one of the paintings decorating the room. At the bottom was written, 'AxML,' which he knew was Axonal's signature. "Aren't they both really into watching plays and stuff?"

Etta smacked her lips. "Oh, they ah, but they were both occupied tonight an' coul'n't cancel. Chico 'ad recitals today, an' Axie has a weekend art conference."

"Chico had a recital?" Nova echoed. "Aw, I wish I would've known."

"If you didn't know, it's because she forgot to tell you," the female pilot consoled. "But she has, like, five performances this weekend. One was yesterday, two today, two tomorrow. Matinee at four, and evening at seven thirty. We have tickets if you want them. They're doing some kinda spring play, forget the name, and Chico has a supporting role. We saw it yesterday and it's pretty good, if you don't mind seeing half naked men in tights."

The blonde gave a facetious smile. "Oh, I think I could bear it for Chico."

"One bloke– No, _two _blokes, 'ave to'ally been makin' tha moves on Chico," the teal female laughed at merely the thought. "I drove her ta practice one day, but somefing worked out awl funny an' it was hard for us ta make arrangements ta get 'er back. We were about to call you lot, but then I sees this hunky guy who was waitin' at tha door of tha studio, an' then took Chico by the arm an' said hello to me, bein' all sweet. He looked like a Greek guy, with olive skin an' this black hair flowing in the wind. Anyway, he said he could drive Chico home an' I was like, 'Oh-kay!'" she said with a suggestive slur in her tone. "An' then there was another guy who looked like a Shugga surfer dude. Has this sun-bleached hair, bronzy skin, awl thot. Name was Daniel, we 'ad him ovah fo' dinnah an' awl of us was ooglin' at 'im 'cause he wos awl eye candy. An' 'ee was givin' us awl tha compliments undah tha sun! 'Course Chico was screaming at us 'He's just a friend! He's just a friend!' An' we were awl like, 'Yeah, yeah, roight, we idiots.'"

"Poor Ax, though." Sparkey shook her head. "Ax goes to all of these art things, and he's really a social butterfly when he's there despite him being such an introvert at home. We always ask how his time was, who'd he met, etcetera. And he'd say, 'Oh, I meant so-and-so and we exchanged e-mails.' Surprisingly, Ax has a huge little black book filled with e-mails, you think he's a womanizer when he's anything but. Then he brings out his camera where he takes pictures of everyone and everything, and then we sees these girls and we're like– " She emitted a muffled exclamation of disgust one would give when shown a disturbing photo. "That chick is _ugly_!" She made a weak laugh and rubbed her face in a grimace. "And I know that sounds so terrible and vain to say, but I'm serious! Because he is surrounded with genuine nerds. _Genuine_ nerds– Not just what you call a smart person, but the actual, textbook definition of a nerd!"

She counted off the points with her fingers. "These chicks don't style their hair, don't wear a stitch of makeup, have no fashion sense, all-out just _don't_ take care of themselves. Don't wash their face so disgusting puss is leaking out, their hair is barely brushed and it's frizzy, plastered to their head because they don't shower. I mean, it's just _bad_!" She laughed and looked towards her teammate. "Whereas Gilson and I dress him up to make him look like Mr. GQ. I mean, Ax is no supermodel, but he's a handsome young man. Gilson buys him these designer clothes, I cut his hair and teach him how to style it and give him this nice cologne. So we both dress him up to be Mr. Lady-Killer, only to have him attract the ugliest people on the planet. Whereas Chico, who's on a different side of the arts, attracts all these supermodel guys." She shook her head. "I know I sound like such a terrible, vain person, but it's true."

"At least Ax _lets _you give him advice," Nova rolled her eyes in true annoyance and put her cheek in her hand. "We're all telling Chiro to get a different haircut but he's stubborn and he'll cut his hair himself and it looks really bad. Not to mention we can barely drag him to go to formal events. Every time Gibson or Antauri try to teach him how to iron a shirt or how to tie a tie, he completely ignores them. I sorta get it, because they're usually the ones acting as his teachers and they can be sticks in the mud. So Sparks tries to look the best he can, so he talks to him about it, but Chiro only half listens to him, too."

"Where is bucko, anyway?" Novo's asked. "You just stuff 'em in the closet, or what?"

"Nah, nah, nah, we came up with an ingenious plan to get rid of him," the crimson male bore a devilish grin. "Otto and I both chipped in and got him a free day pass to Ma and Pa Shanko's. Then we gave him two hundred bucks cash and told him to do whatever he wants." He chuckled and waved. "We left him with the cycle and said 'Kid, I've got a hot date tonight, and you ain't gonna get in the way of it. So, goodbye!' And he was gone in a flash."

"Ha." The jade green-eyed man laughed and lazily clapped. "Good going."

The pilot chuckled. "One nice thing about the kid, is it's easy to get him out of our fur."

A sudden realization came to Anna as she glanced to the end of the room. Normally used for decoration, a desk now served as a present table separated into five groups of gifts marked with place cards. For several moments she felt like an idiot, but then realized that since there was such sweet fellowship going on, a little waiting wouldn't hurt anyone.

She cleared her throat, her way of letting everyone know to listen. "Well, then, would everyone be in agreement if we move on to gift opening time, now?"

"Ha, I didn't even notice that until now." The crimson male smirked.

Antauri leaned back in his seat. "I don't believe they're any protests."

"Splendid, then! Who wants to go first?" The Powersquad commander was taken aback when all the fellow team did was look at each other, expectant of another to take the offer.

The Hyperforce leader gestured. "Um… ladies first."

"And the lady says she doesn't want to be first." Nova crossed her arms.

Their engineer raised his hand. "I'll go!"

"Super! Novo, if you could please…?"

The combatant arose and brushed himself off, then headed for the table's far right, where Otto's stack was placed. Yet instead of going to one of the boxes on the surface, he went to the side, where there was a gift about as tall as he was. He lifted it with ease and set it in front of the green male, and then handed him the card that came with it.

Otto opened it excitedly and then read it aloud, sharing that it was a birthday greeting from Etta. After which, he tore off the wrapping paper, and his eyes widened dramatically. In front of the box was a large picture of a crimson red toolbox that had compartments of all shapes and sizes, with built in extending trays and LED lights. Its print read, 'Deluxe Master Tool Cabinet.' The green male was clapping as a child and saw the tape keeping it sealed had already been sliced through. Upon looking inside, it was completely empty.

"Wow, I get a box!" he said, not the slightest hint of disappointment on his face. Without any warning he flipped the thing over and put it over his head. The box covered him entirely, leaving his feet out to kick in amusement. "Awesome!"

Etta cackled manically and clapped her hands. "Ah, ha, ha!" she addressed the company. "Otto an' I were talkin' tha otha day an' he said all he wanted was a big box to play in!"

"Etta!" her leader gasped, her hands over her mouth in appall. "That was just mean!"

"Nah-UH." The other's nose wrinkled. "Where'd ya fink I gots da box from, Annie? Tha tool cab'net es in my workshop 'cause I 'ad ta assemble it, buh the thing's sucha stonkah I coul'n't wrap it. Eht's as tall you ah, and it's all yours, Otto!"

"You actually got me a tool box that big?!" The green male scrambled inside of the box and launched it off him. He looked towards the other with the biggest eyes he could have.

"Yeah huh!" the female nodded. "'Cause I sees ya with awl ya belts an' li'le tool boxes an' then in ya workshop ya only use a pegboard an' ya constantly get fings awl sixes and sevens! Thot cabinet roight there 'as wheels so ya can take it anywhere ya need, an' it has foam inserts so they ain't knockin' around everywhere an' makin' Gibson go batty bonkahs."

"And I also have a box to play with!" The other bounced in his seat with a smile so wide it couldn't be wiped off. "Thank you, Etta! Thank you so much!"

"Yes, thank you, Etta," a teasing smile was on Gibson's face. "Because I do not wish to go 'batty bonkers' anytime soon." The woman laughed at his wit.

Without warning, the Powersquad male plopped a present in Nova's lap, a large box that sounded and felt hollow. The blonde raised her eyebrow and proceeded to open it. A metal case emerged, with two latches on the side and a handle on the top. Inside were several trays that folded out as a butterfly, each of them loaded with various colors and types of makeup.

Yet instead of an expected reaction, she glared at the golden male. She flicked the card in her fingers, tapping it as one would tap their foot. "So what the heck are you trying to say, Novo?"

The other spun around and pointed accusingly at the rest of his team, who were already laughing at what was unfolding. "I TOLD YA'LL," he said. "But _no-oh_ you guys said women _like_ getting makeup. Novo CALLED THAT, didn't he?!" He turned back to her. "Seriously, what am I supposed to get you? I don't spend all day with you like I do with these chicks," he pointed behind him with his thumb. "So I don't know what your deepest desires are!"

"Excuse me, I'm on a team of _four_ men, and they all got me presents," Nova said matter-of-factly. "And Otto did the smart thing. He got me chocolate. Basic, but effective."

"Yeah? Well I'm not your teammate, chica! Half the things I _could _get for you, I can't get away with!" Novo retaliated. "If I got you chocolate you would've given me that _same_ look and went," he mimicked a valley girl's accent. "'Ew, Novo, you're hitting on me. You pig.'" He pointed towards her crimson teammate. "What did _you_ get her?"

"A video game."

"Gibson? What did _you_ get her?"

The blue male opened his mouth, only to have an unsure groan escape. "Uh… this..." he gestured the size of the gift with his hands in a vain attempt to describe it. "Foot bath, thing…"

The golden male's gaze switched as he looked at the other from the top of his eyes, his voice dropping low and suspicious. "You're telling me that you gave Nova a foot bath?" The onlooking company burst in laughter, yet the combatant remained silent. The other glared at him for purposefully twisting his words and leaving him with no way of defending himself.

"I want Gibson ta give _me_ a foot bath!" The Agness native kicked her feet instinctively. "That's not fair! I wanna foot bath for my birthday, now!"

The jade green-eyed man lost his self-control. He pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed into his palm. "Just the mind picture of that… is just weird."

Gibson cleared his throat and waited for a moment to speak. "That is not what I meant and all you know it. It's an electric tub you put water in, it heats the water, has moving knobs that knead your feet, and bubbles erupt from the bottom. You see them often in salons and shopping malls."

The slate female gasped in realization. "Oh! Are you talking about a foot spa?"

The other snapped his fingers and agreed. "That's it. The word was escaping me."

"That was a good call," Sparkey nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. "Nice."

"Now this will be interesting," the male combatant rubbed his hands and turned his attention to the onyx male of the party. "What did _you_ get Nova, my friend?"

The neon-eyed man cleared his throat and replied, "I got her a personal coupon booklet."

Novo gave a blank stare. "…Say that again."

"A coupon booklet."

"No, you said _personal_ coupon booklet!" the Powersquad male spun around to point at Nova. "_Damn_, Nova. You got yourself a little man harem! You got Otto bringin' ya _chocolates_, Gibson givin' ya _foot baths_, Antauri giving you _personal coupons_. And Sparks– Well, Sparks don't count 'cause he's a jerk."

Antauri looked to the ceiling, exasperated. "I don't understand how coupons are suggestive."

"You've never heard of personal coupons, Antauri?" When earning a shake of the head from the other, the pink female chuckled and propped her chin with her hand. "Makes sense, I guess. Sometimes on holidays when people can't get anything else, couples will make or buy love coupons, basically IOU's for favors. Like, a coupon for twenty kisses, or a backrub, or a date, and other things that only married couples should do that are implied. Things of that nature. So the only way you can save yourself now, is telling us what the coupons are good for."

"Ah. I see." The ebony man made a casual nod. "I am now enlightened. Thank you." He cleared his throat. "The coupons are good for various things, such as free passes to the movie theater with a package included, with others, she can redeem prizes such as music. Others are similar to gift cards for major restaurants or stores."

"I want Antauri and Gibson ta get me awl my presents when my birthday rolls around!" Etta said, clapping her hands in delight. "'Cause they clevah an' know what ta get!"

"No," the Hyperforce female leaned back in her seat with a sly smile on her face. "Better yet, I'm just going to leave 'em with you guys as your personal menservants for the day."

Sparkey gestured with a pinch of her fingers. "Can they have little bowties and cuffs?"

"Oh, the ones without the shirts?" The blonde nodded. "Sure, why not?"

"WOO! YAY!" The female engineer was suddenly ecstatic and cheering in delight. This was followed suit by the rest of the Powersquad women, whom were manically laughing at the mere thought of such an event. In fact, the men became so flustered they were forced to bury their faces into their hands just to avoid making eye contact with the others.

"You people are sick!" Novo protested. "And that's _disgusting_!"

The blonde swiped her hand. "Oh, no, Novo, we'd get rid of you well beforehand."

"Novo," his commander's voice was muffled, as she had buried her face into a pillow on the arm of her seat. "Just give someone else their present. Please."

"Ya see that, guys? Annie's the biggest pervert out of all of us. She can't even look at us, now." The man retrieved another present from the stack and plopped it into Sparks's lap. It was silver, no bigger than a jewelry box, and tied together with a red velvet ribbon.

From the package he took a small card and cleared his throat to read it. "'Sparks, expect for a package with your name on it to be delivered to your Robot sometime this week. Inside will be a fifty eight inch plasma TV with built in Sonicwave surround sound and 3D viewing. I'd help you install it, but I know nothing about installing TVs and I'm sure Otto will do it. Happy Birthday– SPARKEY?'" He smacked a hand over his mouth, completely and utterly shocked. "You're kidding me!" he exclaimed. Yet the woman only shook her head. "You're kidding me!" he said again, slapping the couch beneath him.

Sparkey waved him off. "Don't you know TVs are dirt cheap these days?"

"That TV is bigger than _me_!"

"I know." The pink female shurgged. "It's more of a gift for me than you, because now you'll have something to occupy you than to make up excuses to come here."

The red male snickered, trying to recover for himself. "You won't come for movie night?"

"Nope. It'll be for whatever you dub your man cave for you to do man things."

The acting gift distributor brought Antauri a large box, heavy enough that he set it on the floor. The other scooted to the edge of his seat and lifted the lid off. He nearly did a double take when he saw that inside was a trunk, taller than it was wide, and he lifted it out by a handle on the top. The front was emblazoned 'I Vini di Lilithia.' It took him a moment to rack his mind of what little Italian he knew before he realized it said, 'The Wines of Lilithia.' When he opened the trunk he saw there were six dark bottles, still sealed.

"Remember when Gigi and I took the trip to Lilithia and sent you guys the spontaneous goody box?" Anna asked, not really expecting an answer. "Well, now you have some Lilithian wine to appropriately put in your Lilithian crystal glasses! These are all the number one award winning wines of their nation for the past six years."

He only half-heard what she said, though, as he noticed that tucked in a seam of the wine carrier was a card. Upon examining it, the card's inside was filled with the giver's beautiful calligraphy style handwriting, and an extra two pages had been stapled in the middle to give her all the writing space she needed. It was obviously a personal piece and he was eager to read it, but thought it best to save it for later. He tucked it back in the seam and closed the case.

"Thank you very much for the thoughtful gift, Anna." The leader gave the warmest of smiles he could produce. "I have no doubt I'll enjoy it greatly."

"You're very welcome, dear."

Gibson was next, another receiver of a gift bigger than his lap. He fumbled with the plain white box under the wrapping, and then had to the gift out. The first thing he noticed was the sharp smell of new leather. He was nearly in denial when a dark brown, hard-sided leather briefcase emerged from it. It was tailored so well he wasn't surprised to find the emblem from one of his favorite designers. The hardware was shiny brass and made duel combination locks with four digits. Upon opening it he discovered the inside was light suede, and both sides had accordion file pockets along with other compartments lined with a caramel colored satin.

A card was inside. "'Gibson, I find it a shame that such a polished man like you walks around with a worn-out, threadbare suitcase. So I took the liberty of finding one for you. I hope it meets the need and lasts for many years. Happy Birthday, Sparkey.'"

Sparkey raised her eyebrows. "Surprised, ain't cha?"

"Indeed!" the other nodded. "Pleasantly!"

"I have a confession to make, though," the pink female adjusted her seating. "When I said I was coming to take Nova for lunch, it wasn't because I wanted to take Nova to lunch. I mean, I did, but the real reason was so I could sneak into Gibson's lab, office, whatever it is. So I did, and picked the lock on your suitcase. But don't worry, I didn't look at any of your love letters, I just took some notes in shorthand of your interior preferences, because I sorta saw it as being like a purse would be to me. Because I see Gibson, who dresses so chic and classy, carrying around this hunk of trash for a suitcase, and I just couldn't stand it any longer." She shrugged. "So that's my story and I'm sticking to it."

"I was wondering!" the scientist nodded and set it aside. "I suppose the breaking in can be excused. And you would be right, Sparkey. I'm so picky with my suitcase and so stretched on my time, I was content with it as long as it still held papers. But this is absolutely exceptional, it really is! I don't think I could thank you enough."

"The combination right now is all ones. I checked to see if the lock worked before I bought it. There's a leaflet in there on how to change it but I'm assuming you'd already know."

"I am curious, though." The blue male continued, "You said that you know shorthand?"

"Um hm. Same kind the stenogs used. They teach that at the academy."

"That's impeccable! …Then wouldn't Sparks know?" Gibson looked to his teammate. "Or is it something added to the curriculum since then?"

"Heh, heh," the pilot gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah, they did teach us a lot of codes, one of them being shorthand. I can't write it, but I could read it after a headache and some cursing."

The magenta female shrugged and gave a sly grin. "Sparkey knows a lot of things Sparkey doesn't let on. I have a thing about collecting cards in my sleeve."

"Alright, well, as long as we are at a natural pause…" the Powersquad commander cleared her throat and looked to the back of the room. She nodded her head as a gesture. This directed the attention to behind the couch, where Elaina was intently looking down. Following this, a hiss mixed with soft crackles accompanied by sparks erupted from behind the couch.

"Hit the deck!" The crimson male spun around in his seat and peered over.

Otto cried. "It sounds like you just lit dynamite!"

From behind the couch, the sky blue woman rolled out what was a small serving cart. A three tiered cake covered with fluffy taupe frosting and drizzled with chocolate glaze that trickled down the sides made for an impressive load. Sparklers, flickering energetically, were placed for finesse. The cake was smoothly, but quickly, transferred from the cart to a coffee table. An excited chorus of 'Happy Birthday' was finished just before the sparklers burned out. The makeshift chef removed the items and then proceeded to portion the cake.

The green male suddenly lit with an idea as he was the first to be handed a slice of the delicious looking item. "Hey, hey, hey, Gilson!"

"Oui?"

"How do you sing 'Happy Birthday' in French?"

"Es ze same tune, vous jus' say, 'Joyeux anniversaire.'" She continued to carve the treat and pass servings around. Once finished, s_he flipped over the cloth covering the food cart, and underneath was an arrangement of flowers already in a vase. "'Eere is yo' bouquet, Nova." She raised it to the other's view, then set it behind what was left of the cake._

_Nova gave a befuddled look. "I have flowers?"_

_"Oui. Es tradition. Ze woman geh flowahs fo 'er berz-day."_

_"Oh, well, thanks!" The other nodded. "So what do men get?"_

_Elaina shrugged as she returned to the cart to guide it out of the room. "I dunno. A strippah?" A few snorts or muffled laughs followed. "I mean, men, zhey canno' do much weez flowahs."_

_"What about on Agness?" Otto asked. "Do they have any special birthday thing?"_

_The teal female raised her finger to signal she needed a moment to chew and swallow her food. "Not songs, no. Buh we do 'ave a tradition thot we'd take ya by tha legs an' ahms, and then bop ya on tha ground fo' each year you're old, an' then one moe for luck!"_

_"Back at the academy we'd have a tradition of beer shots. You had to drink one shot of beer every minute for every year you were born. And you had to be at least twenty one to do that so you'd have at least two beers in twenty minutes."_

_"I remember that one!" The fellow pilot exclaimed, nudging the pink female in the shoulder. "I'm glad at least __that__ hasn't changed."_

_"Yeah. The academy might be all glitzy now, but the neighborhood around it has gone downhill. It really has. Not the glory days like you were in."_

_"Seriously. The nearest bar was a planet and a moon away when I was there. And that was a family-friendly sports bar in a hotel, not one of those sleazy ones."_

_"'Family-friendly sports bar.'" The female rolled her eyes as she felt his arm lay on the couch above her. "Now there's a term that dates you." Her attention then changed when she saw her scientist teammate had entered the room once more, this time carrying a platter of nearly a dozen cocktails. They were red drinks served in martini glasses, with froth and sugar on the edges. She was currently serving Gibson a drink and working her way counterclockwise._

_"Novo, you asked earlier if we've ever been over the limit?" The blue male smirked and wagged his eyebrows as he raised his glass. "Well, here you are." The one addressed responded with a mere, unenthusiastic clap of his hands. Unexpectedly, the scientist felt something press against his ankle. His gaze narrowed as he observed it was Sapphire, who had been let out to mingle with the company. He subconsciously withdrew, not wanting her fur to get on his suit._

_"What's the matter, Gibson?" Sparks gave a grin worthy of the Joker as he plucked a cocktail from the platter and sipped it, not taking his eyes off his teammate. "Don't you __like__ animals?" _

_"Ah– Of course I like animals!" the other replied with that silent, subtle look of infuriation only he could give to his crimson teammate. "I just do not favor their fur on my suit."_

_"You didn't like Thingy!" Otto exclaimed, the most confused of expressions over his features. "You said that you __hated__ pets!"_

_"I did not! I said I could barely __tolerate __pets that are filthy and unmannered!" Had one been looking closely, they could see the subtle blush that came across his cheeks. "But Sapphire is no such pet. In fact she's a refined, pedigree feline, bred to be a companion. She has good manners and is kept very well. She is __not__ some unidentified intergalactic, Skeleton King infected __spawn__."_

_His green teammate pouted, but his eyes revealed a twinkle of an idea. "So what if Thingy was clean and not Skeleton King infected spawn? Could we take him back?"_

_"__No__."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because he's __annoying__."_

_"What if he wasn't annoying?"_

_"No. Again. Because his species is not apt for domestication, nor do we have any information pertaining as to how to care for said species."_

_"Making an educated guess, here," Novo bore a sly grin, pointed, and twirled his finger. "But, uh, I'm thinking Gibson has a biff with Thingy. Whatever Thingy is."_

_His fellow combatant burst in an almost evil sounding cackle, just at the thought. "You have no idea." She shook her head and merely smiled towards her teammate. "And just to think. All that trouble, because you didn't let him lick you. All he ever wanted was for you to love him."_

_"And that can be a story we save for another day when it is __not__ your birthday!" Anna chimed in with a clap of her hands. "Because it is also Gibson's birthday and I think we should all take the consideration to make it just as pleasant for him as everyone else. But Otto, should you ever want to take care of a pet, we will gladly lend Sapphire to you."_

_"No way!" _

_"Nuh uh! Sapphie is __ours__!"_

_"_Non, nous ne le ferai pas. {No he will not.}"

The male Powersquad member chuckled. "Uh, I don't think they'll let you."

"Well, then," the slate female bore a surprised expression at this outburst from her team, but cleared her throat. "Otto, you are always welcome to visit Sapphie."

"You can come over for a sleepover!" Etta said with a laugh.

The green man clapped. "Oo! I love sleepovers!"

"Righto!" the Agness native cheered. "We can eat a whole bag of popcorn, and then a whole gallon of ice cream, an' then we can stay up real, _real_ late watchin' movies an' then as we're goin' ta sleep we can tolk about _boys_!"

"Yea– " Otto's automatic response was cut off by a blank look of realization. This was replaced with an awkward, agape expression as he shook his head. "No-oh… I don't want to stay up late _or_ talk about boys…"

The Powersquad pilot laughed. "We can skip that part."

"'Kay. Where's Sapphie no– " the green male stopped, his eyes widened nearly out of their sockets when he saw the Birman happily kneading and purring in the lap of his leader. Antauri had detached himself from the conversation and was occupied in petting her. He lovingly scratched her on the head and neck, and stroked her back as if she were his own.

At the silence, the neon-eyed man's gaze trailed across the room. "…Yes?"

"Can I have Sapphie?" Otto made a pout. "I want her."

"Of course. Uh…" At a loss, the onyx male lifted the cat up and out.

"You can just call her, y'know." Sparkey muttered. "She'll come."

"Sapphie! Oh, Sapphie!" the other tsked his tongue. With a stretch of her legs, Sapphire hopped off and joined the engineer, whom happily accepted her with open arms.

Upon looking down at himself, the commander realized his suit had been completely inundated with ivory hair. Before he could say anything, the pink simian retrieved a lint roller from the table behind the couch. "We've got one of these in just about every room in the house. 'Cause no matter what, that fur gets everywhere. I'd toss it to ya, but it's very painful to be hit by this thing. So…" she trailed off.

Her magenta-eyed teammate curtly stood up, brushed off her dress, and retrieved the item. Yet instead of simply delivering the item, she proceeded to rip off the top layer and run it up and down his chest. All eyes in the room widened, including his own, as she brushed him just as casually as she would do to herself. It was only after several moments she realized exactly what she was doing. The strokes abruptly slowed and then stopped. Her gaze locked with his royally shocked expression, and a blush plastered onto her face. She softly screamed in embarrassment, put her hands over her mouth, and scurried back to her seat.

"I– I am so sorry," Anna cried, her cheeks red and her voice broken by trying to hold back nervous giggling. "I am just so used to my team…"

The majority of the company was already laughing at the incident. Etta slapped her knee and wiped at her eye. "Thot's one way ta get her ta touch ya, yes it is!"

The onyx male only shook his head as he brushed at his lap. "I was scared to do or say anything, on account of the last time I did so, I was struck in the face."

Novo gave a shake of his head and leaned back in his seat, his eyebrows risen with casual pity. "I've tried to tell ya, but none of you believe me."

Etta smacked her lips and waved her hand. "Ignore 'em and open ya present, love."

The statement was directed towards Nova, whom was given a card and a letter opener. She read, "'Nova, Because you both deserve and need some pampering more than anyone else I know. Let this be a taste of investing in yourself for once, Annie.' Well, actually she put 'Anna,' but I call her Annie." Her eyes widened with a moment of surprise and she paused to let it sink in. In the letter was a gift card with its amount written on the back, and in obligation, she held it out for the others to see. "This is a five hundred dollar gift card for the Spa Peonies at the Nuncio Mountain Inn Resort."

"That is our all-time _favorite_ Shuggazoom spa." The teal woman went onto explain. "And oh, girl, _please_ get the contemporary massage package. You need it."

Her commander agreed with a sigh of reminiscing. "Oh, and the facials there are absolutely _divine_. Tell them we sent you and they'll give you perfect recommendations."

"Get Michelle!" Etta exclaimed. "You _need. _Michelle_. _We _fight_ over Michelle."

Nova chuckled and nodded. "Wow, she must be pretty good, then."

"He."

The blonde's eyebrow rose. "…He?"

"_He_ is very good, yes." The Agness native nodded rapidly. "Michelle is a man. Men are stronger and have big, warm hands." She shrugged. "It's not sexist. It's just a fact."

"So Annie gave Nova a gift certificate to get dolled up at a spa and a massage treatment from a man named Michelle." The male pilot rolled his eyes in a telltale fashion. "Yeah, there's nothing at all weird or suspicious about that."

Anna curtly replied. "No there is not."

As her golden teammate set down a rather large box at Sparks's feet, he muttered, "I was thinking that, too."

The other chuckled, and upon trying to lift the gift up, found it weighed greatly. He tore it open to see glossy, jet-printed cardboard, telltale that its contents were drinks, and a note taped onto its top. "'Sparks,'" he read. "'Believe it or not, Aggies have a higher drinking rate than Shuggas do, so here's the best of Jinny beer. If this doesn't make you a regular beer connoisseur, than you're just an idiot. Best of Aggie luck to you, Etta.'" He looked up and put on a patronizing smile. "Aw, Etta, you shouldn't have. How'd you know?"

"'Cause Jinnies ah tha only ones thot know 'ow ta make ale." Etta retorted. "An' I know you an' Novo jus' finks es _so cute_ when li'le Etta cawls ya an idiot."

The pilot smiled even wider so his eyes would shut, shook his head, and tutted as a parent would. "Oh, yes we do, you feisty little Aggie, you."

The teal woman spat. "Feh."

The Rosarian native rounded the front of the couch. "Min' eef I…?"

"Oh, no, not at all." Gibson scooted himself against the couch's armrest to accommodate the other. He slipped out a throw pillow sandwiched behind him.

"Merci," she said, lifting her skirt to take a seat. She crossed her legs and took the pillow, placing it in her lap to put her hands over.

The waft of a wonderful, sensual floral smell reached for his nose and embraced it. He was unaware he made a pleasant smile while saying, "My, that's nice. Might I ask what you are wearing this evening?" The female turned to him with an opened mouth, but the words escaped her. Her lips curled into a bashful smile as she looked to the floor. He attempted to ignore Sparks, who had craned his head with a taken aback, gawking expression.

Elaina breathed out with an unsure giggle. "Ees, uh… My perfume!" She smacked her lips before explaining. "I got eh… A fwiend, ee may eh fo me at a boutique. Merveilles d'Hélèn, ze Wonders of Helen. So I canno' tell vous wha' exactly eet is, buh I can tell vous wah eh in eet. Uh… floral. Vi-oh-let, lavendah, shasmeen, hroses, iris, an' moosk. I lye reech floral sen', nozing swee', weez stron' moosk er ambah as bay."

The other nodded. "Ah, I see. Isn't that akin to Manon number four?"

"A leetle. I zink zhey use sum citrus, zough."

The blue male made a curt nod and bow of his head. "Well, it's very, very lovely."

"Aw, zank vous, Geebsoh." She cooed and patted his arm. "Vous ah too kye."

On the other hand, the pilot's gaze went from shocked to annoyed, and with a roll of his eyes he slapped his back into the couch. "Wow. _That_ didn't go where I thought it would."

Novo chuckled, "That only works when you're talking on the phone, Sparks."

"Yeesh, it's a perfectly classy question to ask a lady." The blonde female said, hopelessly looking to the ceiling and shaking her head. "Speaking of asking a question, what do you mean he made a perfume for you at a boutique?"

"Ya see, that's something that never caught on in Shuggazoom. I have no idea why," Sparkey answered for her teammate. "I find them everywhere else. Shalom, Agness, wherever luxury is appreciated. Just like a gourmet bakery specializes in baking and can make orders, perfume boutiques make custom fragrances in the shop. So I could go to one and say I'd like a fragrance with an amber base, a musk entry, and, I dunno, woods and spices as the main scent. And they'd make it for you right there in the shop."

The blonde female nodded her head with a wide-eyed gaze. "Wow, I didn't even know that was possible, that perfume could be made that quickly."

"Sometwimes ya make an appoin'men'." Etta commented. "One of these days, we need ta take Lady Novie fo' vacation ta awl our favorite spas an' shops an' fings!"

"My goodness, this is heavy," the onyx male's voice floated, and it grabbed attention. In his lap was a gift in red, embossed wrapping paper and a black cloth bow set off asymmetrically. On it was a silver seal set in such fancy cursive one could barely make out it said 'J–P' with an 'M' in the middle. He carefully looked around the box to see how to open it, but it appeared seamless. He cleared his throat and started to pull at the ribbon.

"Vous pull off ze top, cher," Elaina murmured.

The commander felt along the seams of the gift for the top lid, which reached to the very bottom. "Ah, yes, thank you." There was a mahogany wooden box with the seal and the name 'Jean-Philippe Co.' underneath it. The inside of the box was lined with purple velvet to gently cradle five whiskey glasses and a decanter, made of crystal and intricately cut.

Before the receiver said anything, Novo piped up, "You always know what present's from Gilson 'cause French people never wrap their own gifts."

The Rosario native snickered. "Ah vous keeding me? We too lazy."

Nova had craned her head to see what the present consisted of. Her eyes widened and a chuckle of disbelief came from her throat. "…Wow."

"Well?" the female engineer hopped in her seat. "Whot es it?"

"It's an incredibly elegant whiskey set." Antauri announced as he held a glass for all to see. He handed it to his female teammate in order to remove the decanter to show as well. "This is truly a breathtaking present, Elaina. Thank you."

"It looks like something you see from a movie!" Otto said.

The blonde female grinned. "Ironic thing is, I got Antauri his favorite whiskey."

Her pilot teammate snickered. "Two presents in for Antauri and _both _are alcohol related."

The golden male replied, "That's 'cause Antauri needs a drink to loosen up a little."

Sparkey snapped her fingers and pointed at the Hyperforce commander. "Antauri's favorite whiskey as of thus far would be… Quincy J. Royal, bronze brew, year 1936. I remember because he was telling me his old favorite was Jean-Luke Black."

"You would be correct." The onyx male nodded. "Both of which are scotches."

The pink-eyed female gave a perplexed snarl for an expression. "When did you start talking to Antauri about liquor? And how do you even _remember_?"

"I think… Annie and I, and Gibson and Antauri, went to a liquor tasting. Naturally you talk about liquors at a liquor tasting. And Sparkey has the memory of an elephant."

"And did you sit there and smoke a cigar like a baddie?"

The pink female gave her date a look as if she were shooting nails from her eyes and he was the dumbest target in the world. She gave him a light backhand on his shoulder. "You don't smoke a cigar as you taste fine liquors! Yeesh, you've watched one too many movies." She pantomimed holding a glass in one hand and a cigar in the other. "'Oo, look at me, I'm intoxicating myself in two different ways at once!'" She shook her head. "Alcohol is by far the worst thing to have to enjoy a smoke. Why don't you go ahead and gargle pickle juice before sampling chocolates? You don't try two different items of connoisseurs in the same sitting! Never in all my life, have I actually smoked and drank at the same time. God, you're a moron." She muttered as an afterthought. "I smoked afterward, though."

Anna tsked. "Come now, Sparkey, how's he supposed to know that?"

"Sorry." Her pilot gave a comical grin. "It's just a very sensitive subject for me. And I'll have you know I went to a tobacco tasting convention, and the only thing they served there was water and some fruit, I think, just for that reason."

"Ah ya gonna open up ya present or not, love?"

"Wha…" his fellow engineer's comment raised his attention, and he realized he had been given an elongated box. "Oh!" Otto put his cake on the coffee table before opening the gift. Inside, there were two plastic cards with the words 'Season Pass' emblazoned on them, and he didn't even have to read it to clap his hands with excitement. "Wow, how cool! Just in time for the start of the season! Novo, how'd you know who my favorite baseball team was?"

"I asked Sparks. But I had an idea because I thought you told me before. Those are for you and a friend, and then if you have more friends they get in for half off, and all your concessions are half off. They also come with exclusive tickets for the All Star Circuit."

The green male swayed in his seat. "So cool… Do you wanna go, Novo?"

"Nah, I'm not big into baseball. You take Sparks or the kid."

"Novo's favorite spoht is rugby an' skiing!"

"Shut up, Etta," Novo's lips were pursed, eyes flared. "You shall not speak of that!"

"…Rugby, Novo?" The crimson male raised an eyebrow. "…Really?"

"Blame her!" the combatant pointed accusingly at his teal teammate. "She totally hooked me onto it! And don't even act like you've watched rugby before, because you obviously haven't. Forget football, man. Rugby is _brutal_. They have no padding, no nothing."

Etta shook her head in confusion. "Football ain't thot bad!"

The jade green-eyed man cleared his throat. "_Shugga_ football." He was met with a giggle.

"What's in this cake, Gilson?" Otto asked after wiping his lips midst a swallow. "'Cause I've never had anything like it and it's really, _really_ good!"

"I wo' not know, my love. I deed no' may it. Ask Annie."

Yet the slate female didn't have to be addressed to explain. "Oh, Gigi and I got into a debate because I'm a girl and I naturally like to use cocoa, but she was claiming men don't like cocoa as much as other things. Novo came in and set us straight. So I used a semi-sweet fudge mixture and some caramel for the inside filling layers. Then I whipped up some peanut butter cream icing mixed with toffee bits, and then drizzled some chocolate syrup on it."

"This is what this whole thing got started over, y'know," Nova sliced at some of her dessert. "We ran into Etta and Annie at the grocery store and I asked them where I could get a cake, and of course they wanted to know why I needed one. But all in all I think this is better than anything I could have gotten from a store."

"Of course!" The blue male chuckled. "The cake is scrumptious, Anna."

His commander added. "We greatly appreciate your efforts to make it."

"Yeah, what they said." Sparks muttered.

Anna giggled in the most delicate of ways. "Oh, thank you, everyone. It was my pleasure and I am so glad you like it." At first she had finished the statement, but after several moments, a thought came to her. She sported an impish smile on her face as she muttered, "And I used my wonderful batter and icing tools to make it."

Immediately her scientist countered, "'Ey, now. Baking is diffahrent. Cooking is an ahrt, baking ees a science. Vah-ree many fine bay-ka-ray use technologhee to 'elp tay out human error fro' delicate chemistry. Buh when vous _cook_, no, no, vous mus' use ze tool of yo' creativity! Arteests 'ave use canvas an' brush fo years. Vous keep yo filzhy, rah-teen gahgeets away from such an' ancient ahrt-for'."

The magenta-eyed woman laughed. "So you are saying baking is a science and you don't favor it, despite that an extensive knowledge of chemistry is in your job description?"

"Eh…" Elaina chortled in amusement. "Ashually, I 'ave confession to may. I wah alway' bee-ter ah mazh zhan ah sci-ahnce." When she looked over, the blue male was gazing at her with a shell-shocked expression, eyes wide and mouth agape. Her expression changed into an open-mouthed, awkward smile. "…I did no' know vous fell so strawly aboo' zhis, Geebsoh."

"Wow." Sparks said, onlooking from the side. "All this time I've known Gibson, and yet I have _never_ seen that look from him. Ever. It's… really weird."

"The timing of that was perfect." The blonde female commended. "Usually we know when Gibson's surprised because he'll try to act like he's not. He'll flinch. He goes– " She abruptly gasped and made a horrified expression. "And then– " She propped her elbow on the armrest and stroked her chin, speaking in a proper tone, "'Hm, that's rather unexpected.'" She frowned, as the scientist didn't even appear to be listening, rather had raised his hand to cover his muzzle. Whatever was inside his wooden box, he was gawking at as if it were a national treasure. She cleared her throat. "Earth to Gibson, did you even hear what she said?"

He muttered. "Yes, yes, she thinks she's better at math– She's told me that." His head made slow shakes. "Elaina, I'm not even sure if I can _accept_ this from you!"

"No-seh!" The Rosario native put her hands over his shoulders, squeezing them in an affectionate manner. "Vous know vous wan' to. Vous jus' can' geet over ze fact zhat I am buying _vous_ somezing zhis time, Monsieur Gigi-can'-buy-'er-own-coffee-eef-I'm-aroun'."

Novo rolled his eyes, as the recipient only kept quiet. "Gee, Gibson, can you at least act a _little_ surprised?" He laughed, "What's in there, dude? A marriage certificate?"

"It better not be!" The male pilot involuntarily exclaimed. In the moment afterward, his gaze darted to his right. "I just said that aloud, didn't I?"

Sparkey smacked her lips, annoyance worn on her face. "Yeah. You did."

"And all of us heard you." Nova said. "And I wish we had a camera for that look."

Anna gasped, and as if she were shot, slammed back into the loveseat and hopelessly looked to the ceiling. "Eugh, I _knew_ I forgot something! And– Oh! I asked you all to bring a change of clothes, didn't I? Darn it, darn it, darn it, darn it…"

"Anna, really," her fellow commander consoled. "We're all having a wonderful time! Besides, none of us are that photogenic. You don't have to worry about taking pictures."

Without even moving or looking at him, the woman lifted her finger straight at him, sighing as she said sweetly, "Screw you, Antauri."

The female combatant groaned and chuckled. "Oh, Annie, I want to be you so bad."

The other nonchalantly mumbled as she left the room, "No you don't."

"So…" the sky blue woman leaned to her opposite side, raising her chin in a curious manner. "Vous eizher really love eh, or really 'ate it."

"It's, ah…" Gibson slowly shook his head. "I don't even know what to call this. A formal variety pack? A– " he made a silent gasp, as she pushed the lid all the way down, where three more trays folded out to reveal quadruple of what he thought was inside. "Great Scott, it even has shirt studs! And I can't remember the last time I got a tie ring." Finally, he flipped the box around for the company to see. "Elaina, what do you call this?"

"Jus' a suit accessory boss. Zhey ah vah-ree popular where I come from."

"What all does it have in it?" Nova had craned her head and sat on the edge of her seat to see the contents. "I see a lot of fancy cloth and metal pieces."

"Basically any accessory vous can' wear weez a suit, bee-sighs vests or waistcoa'. So…" She thought and counted off her fingers, "Vous 'ave all diffahrent types of tie, bowtie, neh'tie, an' cravat. Zhen vous 'ave yo' ozher clozh, lye 'andkerchief an' cummahbun'. Zhen yo 'ave yo jewelry, eh… Tie peens, hrings, an' bar, shir' stuh, an' cuffleen. Cuffleen of 'course. I 'ave never seen Geebsoh wear shir' wizhout cuffleen."

"What's a tie _ring_?" the blonde was further inquisitive. "I've never heard of that."

"Eet's a…" Elaina reached for the pack. "May I?" After a nod of approval she pulled out a scarf and began to tie it around her own neck. "Leh me see eef I can remember zhis… Tie hring is wor' weez neh'tie or cravat fo'ded een neh'tie."

Sparks cleared his throat. "Gilson, how do you know so much about menswear?"

"I'm French," she curtly replied as she fiddled with the cravat. "Een Rosario vous ah expehteh' to know aboo' all dress, man, wooman, formal, casual. Saying vous dun know 'ow to tie ties eh lye saying vous dunno ze alaphabeh. Ees somezing young chill-shren loo' forwar' to learn, lye tying zheir shoes, zhey wan' to know 'ow to tie Papa's tie." She smacked her lips and picked at the tie. "Well, zhis is 'ow vous wear eh." She folded it and put it back. "Ees no' perfeect, buh vous geet idea. Een Rosario, moe zhan 'alf ze population wear suit to wor', so zhese ah vah-ree common. Buh becau' Geebsoh wear zhem so much I zought 'ee woul' already 'ave one. I ashually call Antahree to ask, an' 'ee 'ad no idea wha' I wah talking aboo', an' zhen I wah shok to fye out zhey do no' exist on Shuggazoo'!"

The pink female made a casual sigh. "A lot of things don't exist on Shuggazoom that should. Custom perfume boutiques, whatever that thing is," she pointed to the gift. "And don't even get me started on when Etta was infuriated to find out they didn't have any tea shops on Shuggazoom, and all of them were replaced with coffee shops."

"And plants." Etta nodded with a resentful grin. "Plants don't exist on Shuggazoom."

The red pilot snorted in disbelief. "What, the _jungle_ ain't good enough for ya?"

"Nah. It. Ain't." The teal female scoweled. "'Cause ya 'ave no plants in yer actual _city_. Ya'ave stupid _plastic_ trees! Plastic. Trees. Thot's jus' pathetic."

"Here's some Shugga attitude, then." The blonde female snickered. "You like Agness so much, you go back there and leave us all alone."

"I _would_ if my _job_ wasn't here." The female engineer grinned. "Love ya, Novie."

"Love ya, too."

"Alright! I've found the camera!" The Powersquad commander trotted in with a large, professional camera, and instantly snapped a picture before anyone could react. She made a large grin as she leaned back from looking in the lens. "Don't bother to pose or look at me. I like taking candid shots. So after everyone's done with opening presents, we're going to take a quick break to change into some more casual clothes, of which I will direct you to the guest rooms to do so. And then we're going to have some fun party games available!"

Sparks lazily raised his hand. "I vote for spin the bottle!"

His date scoffed. "Spin the bottle is what drunk high-schoolers play."

Anna raised the pitch of her voice to sound professional. "We're going to play games that all participants will have fun in. Maybe Take it or Tell it, which is a more mature version of Truth or Dare. Uno is always a favorite. And because all of you gentlemen are here, Sparkey was kind enough to get the game 'Battle of the Sexes,' which I believe is a game that men ask women questions about masculine subjects and vice versa. And then I also think we have Taboo, Pictionary, Yahtzee, Cranium, and Catch Phrase."

"Oo! I want to do Catch Phrase!" Nova tapped her armrest in excitement. "And I want Antauri and Gibson on my team because they kick butt at that game."

"I love Pictionary!" Otto said. "It's so much fun because you get to laugh at everything!"

"You try playing that game with Ax and he'll get really nitpicky." The pink female shrugged. "But no duh, he's an artist, what do you expect?"

The slate female cleared her throat. "We shall vote democratically with the Hyperforce's votes counting double because it is their birthday and they are our guests."

"Tolk about an unfair bias." Etta cackled, "Why, thot's a rigged election, yes it is!"

"Never mind that, now. We've still got a lot ahead of us." The magenta eyed woman shooed them with her hand. "Continue with the present opening!"

"Two AM. It is two AM, and none of us even realized."

"Eh… twime flies when yer havin' fun, yes it does!"

Nova finished the final sip of a juice cocktail and placed it on the end table. Crumbs had mysteriously accumulated on the caramel brown vinyl of her pants, sported with a matching biker styled vest. Truth be told, she hadn't worn the ensemble in over a decade, but the old styles were returning, and the Powersquad couldn't stop talking about it. She couldn't help but feel like she had to dress nicer around them, or she would be the unfashionable misfit.

"So does that limo service cater at 2AM?"

"Aw, we made sure thot it ran twenty four seven!" Etta, on the other hand, was in a nude colored blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt. "I finks Annie went ta cawl 'em, so thot's awl yer waitin' for! 'Sides, ya con't tell me we're tha only pahty ta get out after midnight, yeah?"

"Honestly…?" the combatant chuckled and looked around her. The living room, formerly the center of the party, had been cleared of guests. "'Kay, I'm tipsy, so I guess I'm gonna get a bit sensitive. Really, I don't remember the last time I've had this much fun. Heck, I don't remember last time we as a _team,_ have had that much fun. Or played party games or sat down and had a good drink together or nothing…"

"Ya haven't sat down an' 'ad a drink as a team for awhile?" the teal female tsked and shook her head. "Naw, I don't believe that."

"No, no, we've gotten into some pretty bad habits," the blonde female gave a shrug of dismay. "We used to eat at the table for every meal. These days we only sit down for lunch. And the last time we all had a good drink together was… Well, it's been awhile. We kinda stopped doing group things after Mandarin left. I know it's kinda silly to say, but it's true. He always pushed for us to do things as a team, but Antauri isn't so much that way. He's tried to get us together for things, no doubt, but… it was never the same." She kicked one leg over the other. "Then again, we were much younger, and much more naïve."

"Ain't thot funny, though?" the other woman's tone dropped to a serious one. "How much chaps con change in jus' a few years."

"What was Maddy like?"

"Madday would've made a well business CEO." The engineer giggled at the thought. "She was always so fohmal-like, real composed and awl calm, face din't change thot much. Buh Madday was jus' like Spahkey er Novo– She always kept a cool 'ead no matter whot. She was well organized, very neat, 'er desk was always clean, I remember. She could pull out anyfing in ten seconds, yes she could! Always 'ad this funny fing, though, thot whenevah she'd give ya a compliment, she'd usually followed whiff critique! So everytwime she'd say somefing, we fought she'd start critiquing, an' she'd look at us awl funny when she di'n't."

"Believe it er not," the teal female continued. "Madday's best friend was ac'tally _Spahkey_! Dun tell 'er I said thot, though. It's tha only fing Sparkey dun like ta tolk about." She nodded at the memory. "But aw, yeah, Madday and Spahkey were tha best o' chums. They'd go out an' smoke an' tolk all day long. She even made Spahkey second in command! An' Annie an' I, we was tha best a friends, still ah, but back then we was closah to each otha than anyone else we knew. Aw, boy, though…" she pouted in thought. "After Madday left, Spahkey was our commandah for a li'le while, but then she an' Annie 'ad a li'le tolk. No one knows whot they said, but when Annie came out, she wos tha commandah!"

Nova's head bobbed and she bit her lip in thought. "Yeah, you're right. Sparkey would be qualified to run an entire ship, wouldn't she?"

"Spahks would be, too. It's standard when ya go ta tha academy." The other shrugged. "But Madday was always a strong, silent one. Mostly leave us alone in the workday. Di'n't do fings for the team much but ta celebrate fings, like holidays er birthdays. But Madday was smart as a whip, yes she was. Why, with Elaina being a Rosie, me being an Aggie, language, cultah barriers, we woulda awl clawed our own pelts off ehf it wosn't fer Madday."

"But there was good thot came out of Madday leaving!" Etta said with a wide smile. "Annie was third in command, then second fo' a li'le bit, then first, so we gots ta see 'er as a leader, an' she really let 'erself staht shinin'. She was tha shyest fing when we first met! 'Cause she was sor'ah left out, ya know, 'er job wasn't in'ertwined with ours. Ya know, engineering connected ta piloting, piloting connected ta combat, combat ta science, science ta engineering. It was a circle, and she wos left out. She jus' kinda floa'ed 'round as the counselor, di'n't say much. But when she gave it welly, oo, boy! We awl fell in love whiff her, yes we did! She welded us awl tagetha."

"Mandarin was…" The combatant trailed off. "Well, y'know."

"Yeah! Ya told me!"

Nova wanted to change the conversation. "…Man, we've _got_ to play Battle of the Sexes again. Who knew someone as cute as you would know so much about guy stuff? I swear, I would've needed to pick Sparks's jaw off the floor. Sparkey was awesome, too."

"I know rioght? Spahkey's _used_ ta awl 'er men folk." The other laughed. "It was really a competition jus' 'tween Novo, 'Tauri, an' Gibson, versus Spahkey, an' me, and you! 'Cause Novo gets awl tha girl stuff from us an' we get awl tha guy stuffs from our jobs!"

"And I had no idea Antauri could draw that well. I didn't know that man could be right brained in any way, shape, or form. I mean, it isn't Picasso, but it's better than my stickmen. And that was _shocking_ for me because, dang, I've known the guy for twenty years and I would've never guessed."

Etta shrugged. "Well 'Tauri likes music and art. That's right brained for ya."

"Guess you're right…" the combatant chuckled at an oncoming thought. "Otto… 'It's a banana skiing down a snowy mountain!'"

"Otto's such a charm." She waved her hand. "Gawd bless 'em. Whot about thot Cranium game, yeah?"

"I didn't think it'd be as easy as it turned out to be."

"It just occurred to me. If you stirred at three o'clock this morning, you've been awake for nearly twenty four hours."

The dishwasher had already been filled to its capacity, and that only included small dishes. Elaina was bent over the sink cleaning cooking tools and drink glasses. Her eyes burned, her feet ached, her arms were tired from lifting platters all day, and her dress felt damp. But she would never let that on, as she had company. Gibson sported an ensemble of a white shirt and khakis, accessorized with a burgundy tie and an argyle sweater vest. The woman had opted not to change, as she didn't mind moving in the dress she had on.

She said with feigned annoyance. "Geebsoh, vous ah no' suppos' to be een ze keet-chin."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Wha' eh wrong weez vous an' yo' Shuggazoo' way? I do no' een-vie vous ovah to _wor_', I een-vie vous ovah to relass an' may merry. Vous ah no' my servan'."

Gibson chuckled. "And you aren't ours, either. So your argument is a moot point."

The woman sighed in defeat and retired her dish wand. "Wha do vous wan', Geebsoh?"

"I wanted to see if I could help you. But if you refuse to allow me, I suppose I simply favor company as we await our transportation back home."

She spun on her heel and gestured to herself with open arms. "Well, vous ah in my company. An' I am 'appy to oblige. Now wha do vous 'ave behye yo' back?"

"Was it really that obvious?"

"Oui."

The man sighed and took the arm bent behind him to reveal a long gift bag, obviously made for a bottle. It had glossy print of elegant grapes and fruit, and curled ribbons to tie its handles. "With Antauri's initiative, I took the liberty of walking to the package store."

"Aw, Geebsoh…" The Frenchwoman shook her head and tutted. Her lips parted in a delicate way as she scanned the deep red bottle. "Oo, sherry! I canno' remember ze las' time I 'ad a goo' sherry." She reached for a drawer on her left and retrieved a bottle opener to remove the cork. Upon retrieving a pair of delicate cordial glasses, she filled them with the crimson substance. Both raised their glasses. "Á votre santé. {To our health.}"

"Á la vôtre. {Cheers.}"

They made a toast and consumed the drink in a single sip. After which, Elaina chuckled. "Quelqu'un a étudié le français. {Someone has been studying their French.}"

"Mais bien sûr. Il n'ya pas de bonne excuse pour une ne pas avoir le temps d'apprendre quelque chose de nouveau. Nous devons réunir pour une autre leçon, comme je suis devenu de plus en plus à l'aise avec il. {But of course. There is no good excuse for one not having the time to learn something new. We should get together for another lesson, as I'm becoming increasingly confident with it.}"

The woman giggled with glee and gently nudged him. "Vah-ree goo', buh vous nee' to wor' on assent. Vous an' all ozher Anglais, try too 'ard to pronounce rye. Vous soun' lye tea-sher talking to person 'ard of 'earing." She thoughtfully took the bottle and further read its description. "Ze sherry is divine. Buh one canno' expeh any less fro' vous, no?"

"It's the least that we could do for you, Elaina. A card of gratitude, alone, would be inadequate in expressing what a joy it has been. In fact I feel as though anything is insufficient at this point. The effort and talents you and your team put into this night are truly unmatched, and beyond a doubt, unforgettable. All in all, we cannot thank you enough."

"Aw, Geebsoh," she gave him a very close embrace. In reaction he took in a sudden breath, only to be met by a heavy concentration of her perfume. "Eht was a labor of love, ma cher. Vous do no' 'ave to feel obligated to do anyzing, becau' zhe best zank you vous can geeve us, ees us know-een vous 'ad a ma-jchic-cal nye."

"I read your card." He grinned softly. "I never knew that you could be so eloquent with words, but really, I should have expected as much. It was nothing short of lovely."

"Oh, eet wah no' too 'ard?" she asked, gazing into his eyes. "I canno' tell vous 'ow mooch I debated zhat. Buh I am so mooch moe comfortable weez my tongue zhan writing Anglais, I jus' zought zhe language barrier woul' tay away from eet."

"No, no, of course not. It was lovely in every sense of the word."

Elaina embraced him again, grasped his cheek, and fondly kissed the other. "Vous an' yo' team ah 'eld vah-ree deeply weez-een our 'earts, an' we treasure yo' companionship."

Something flipped in his heart and stomach. His pulse raced and his throat developed a lump. He made a very painful swallow and the sides of his neck and jaw flushed hot, as if he had placed a scolding cloth on it. He honestly didn't know why he was experiencing these unpleasant sensations, but figured it must have been all the alcohol from the evening finally inducing its side effects. He forced himself to return the gesture and then bid her adieu.

'_How odd,' _he thought. _'How odd, indeed.'_

Anna took in a deep sigh and set down her tea cup, rubbing at her eyes. She picked at her collar, a cowl neckline on a pastel blue pencil dress. "The most wonderful thing is that you can nearly fall asleep in the car and then trudge over to bed without having to worry about anything. I have very few nights like that, and I always love them."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Antauri was with her, changed into a simple blazer and shirt with slacks. "Every time I visit, you seem to be working on something. Making candles, cosmetics, cooking, cleaning, running errands. I considered myself to be a bit of a workaholic, but I can barely fathom how you can manage to have time for yourself."

"One of the many secrets of women, Antauri," she made a mysterious giggle. "I admit, I sometimes ask myself the same question."

The male took a cracker from a plate between them. They were situated at a small, two person table in the study. "I must say, this is a wonderful cheese. What is it, exactly?"

"Garlic and herb goat cheese, Perry's. I would have put poppy seeds on it, but I didn't feel like being self-conscious about my teeth. The crackers are wheat rosemary."

"I would have never thought those flavors would taste so splendid together." He chuckled. "Quite frankly, I don't know how I could still be eating after that fantastic meal, let alone all of the food and drink served after the matter."

"Neither did I, until I tried it! We merely forget our bodies are made for grazing, and a little at a time goes a long way. Even with our mealtimes, someone always winds up making a snack and then passing it around for the rest of us. Oh…" she rubbed her eyes and sighed.

The male smiled gently, "You look tired, Anna. You should get some rest. I could only imagine with you coordinating all of this, how much energy you've spared."

"Oh, pish posh. I'm not going to bed until you've left. Now how uncouth would that be as a host?" She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It won't be much longer. The service is only a twenty minute drive from here." She hummed, "Twelve hours, Antauri. Can you believe it's been twelve hours since we picked you up this afternoon? It doesn't seem that long at all."

"What is the old saying? Time flies when one is having a good time?"

"More like time burns like hay, I'm convinced. An hour is to me what a minute is to others. Once, in a teaching at Curaladol, where they were speaking of taking time to meditate, the teacher said, 'There are twenty four hours in a day. Twenty four hours is a _long time_.' And I remember trying not to laugh, thinking, 'No, it is not. By any means, it is not.'"

The onyx male took a sip of tea. "I used to plan my days very meticulously, very long ago. But then I found it caused me more headache than profit."

"It does, doesn't it? I've found a list of things I need to do for the day and relatively when is far more efficient." She paused to eat a cracker. "So… how did you like your presents?"

The other made a bemused shrug and grin. "I couldn't have asked for anything better. The watch kit is going to be put to great use, I assure you. And Etta's tea sampler made me nostalgic to the days Nova, Mandarin, and I would go tea shopping."

Anna smiled and nodded. "I am so glad."

"And of course your gift was nothing less than extraordinary. Tomorrow, I will attempt to amount to the wonderful words you shared in your card as I write my own."

"Aw, you. Too humble for your own good."

"Frankly, you're the one to talk, Anna." The man paused and contemplated his next words. "…Have you sampled the wines you gave me? Out of curiosity?"

"Only one or two of them, I believe."

"Well, then," he leaned back in his seat. "We should arrange to do so. Would you be available next weekend?"

The slate female blew out of her lips in thought. "Oh, no, I'm afraid not. That's the closing weekend for Chico's performances and I promised to help. Etta, Elaina, and Sparkey will all be out of town. The weekend after that, I'll be available, though!"

"I'm afraid I have a conference, then."

"Oh, poo," her lips puckered in a grimace. "What about next Wednesday?"

"Wednesday nights aren't good for me, unfortunately." An unsure smile slowly crept onto his face. "What about tomorrow evening?"

"Well, Mr. Antauri," Anna giggled and kicked one leg over the other. "That's on rather short notice, but I do say I don't see any conflicts with it."

"Tomorrow it is. Seven o'clock?"

"I'll be there." She agreed. A natural silence passed before she looked at the ground in thought. "Did you have a nice time tonight, Antauri?"

"How could I not? Learning that a light, alcoholic liquid used for removing unwanted facial oils is called toner, was quite intriguing." The Hyperforce commander allowed the other to chuckle at the mention before he continued into a more solemn mood. "I don't know what it is about you, a woman's secret or not, but you and your team have such a way of bringing us together. Somehow we all forget that we can grow tiresome of each other in both living and working with the others. Even when we return home, I can feel a sense of relief and renewal throughout my comrades that reverberates for days to come. You have a way that…" he trailed off in thought. "A way that, even I will admit, I cannot duplicate on my own. And I cannot even begin to tell you how much I truly appreciate that."

"Oh, dearie, we're happy to do it." The slate female loped a hand over his own. "And you're not alone. Why do you think my teammates go out so often? We'd go batty bonkers if we didn't." The two chuckled at the reference. "It is truly a pleasure having you here as well. My team always looks forward to spending time with you and the others."

"Ze rye eh 'ere." Elaina came into the room with her fellow scientist following. She gave a dark green bottle to the neon-eyed man. "Buh 'ee nee' time to loh up all ze gifs, so feef-teen minuhtes, I expeh. Anyways, 'ere is zhat moscato vous lye. Only zhird of bottle. An' dun say vous canno' excep' eh becau' we 'ave so mooch wine leef over, I do no' zink we will be able to feenish it befoh eh oxidizes."

Antauri rolled the bottle in his hands. "Oh, well, thank you very much, Elaina."

She looked to her commander. "'Ee an' Geebsoh brough' us some sherry."

"Ah! It's nothing more than a mere liquor exchange! You could swear we're alcoholics!" The magenta-eyed female giggled and rubbed her eyes. "I think I've had more liquor tonight than I've had in weeks!" She shook her head, snapping her gaze towards the two men. "And I _told_ you two not to get us anything, but _no_. You are too darned _stubborn_."

Gibson chuckled and gave a roll of his eyes. "Oh, please, Anna, we beg you forgive us for such a transgression."

"And now Gibson's mocking me." The slate woman cleared her throat. "Gigi, have you beckoned the others, or is that endeavor still in progress?"

"I grab Nova an' gave Oht-to ze muscadine." The sky blue female gave a shrug and shook her head. "I'm no' suh if 'ee'll drink it, buh whatever."

The other scientist bit the inside of his lip. "Otto at least knows the difference between white and red wine glasses, or at least I think he does. Sometimes, I'm not entirely sure. Otto is more into the mixed drinks such as rum and cola or whiskey and water."

"'Ey, nozing wro' weez zhat." The fuchsia-clad simian clapped her hands. "Well, we shou' go, now. Wee'll see vous off in ze cah."

There was nothing quite like a freshly clipped and lit cigar to unwind to. Sparkey didn't usually smoke this late at night because she would brush her teeth before going to bed, which would prematurely end the aftertaste. But she figured her team had all worked hard in the mere week they had in preparation for the party, and she deserved a treat afterward. On a scale with ten being her best and most favorite, her current beauty was perhaps a seven, enough to feel indulgent with a meager excuse. To fit her relaxation, the female sported a slim fitting, nude colored dress, with sleeves to the elbows and the skirt to her knees.

The climate on Shuggazoom was much like Shalom, the planet that dwelled under the orbiting pilot's academy she originated from. If it were up to her, she would have been nocturnal. The cool nights clouded with dewy fog from the humid, hot days had a mystique she couldn't resist. She would practice making smoke shapes in the air for her own amusement. Hearts were always the hardest.

The sound of an automated door echoed from behind her, followed by a casual voice. "Mind if I join you? Or've you had enough of me for one night?"

The pink female emitted a chuckle as she parted the cigar from her lips and blew out a tunnel of smoke. "Sparks, it'll take a lot more than you to really hack me off. Even my own team hasn't managed to do so. 'Just hope ya don't mind the cigar smell."

Sparks let out a weak laugh as he headed to the edge of the Battle Droid's head. Sometimes it amused him how similar the two teams could be. "Nah." He sat beside her. Upon looking out of the corner of her eye she saw he was clad in a butter yellow polo with brown jacket and khakis. "Hey, so… sorry about the cigar comment earlier."

The female snarled in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"When you were talking about sampling liquors and I said…?"

"You mean _that_?" She rolled her eyes and laughed in near disbelief. "Sparks, that was nothing! What're you apologizing for? And if anyone, _I_ should be apologizing for hauling off on you and making you look like an idiot in front of everyone."

He blew it off. "Phft. Too late for that. I'm already the stupid one."

The other chuckled halfheartedly. "You're not stupid, Sparks." She tapped ashes off her smoke. "You couldn't graduate from Starcraft Academy, be a pilot, and be stupid. Now, do you lack in good judgment sometimes? Oh, yeah. But don't we all?"

The man smirked and shrugged to himself. "I guess. I _was_ on the Honor Roll."

"Aligantí sure spoke fondly of you, though I could count the actual conversations I had with her on one hand. When she mentioned you, I thought she was talking about some other human or humanoid pilot." She tasted her cigar, slowly inhaling it and relishing the taste. White clouds escaped from her pearly lips, the elegant display entrancing her company. "I still can't figure out how that one slipped past me."

"Yeah," Sparks shook off his fixation. "Just a few years back, I went to the twenty year reunion and saw her. Funny thing, she didn't mention you."

"If it was before June of that year, then I hadn't been there, yet."

"Ah, that makes sense," he said, with precise enunciation. Several moments later, a thought came to him. He chewed on his lip and shook his head. "Wow, Sparkey. Sometimes I really don't get you. You gave a giant plasma TV, to a jerk like me."

"You're not a jerk." The woman was quick to correct. "There is a vast difference between being a jerk, and acting like a jerk. Sometimes you _act_ like a jerk, but you're not a jerk."

"And just where is the difference?"

"A true jerk would throw his buddies under the bus if something goes wrong. A person acting like a jerk would complain about his buddies, but still take the fall with them."

The crimson male huffed in thought. "Never looked at it that way."

"I don't know where in the blue moon you got the idea, Sparks, but I don't hate you."

This caught the other completely off guard. His eyes shot wide and he found himself looking at nothing. He slowly parted his lips, "I– Uh, I know that."

"Then why do you act like you're walking on eggshells whenever you talk to me? The almighty pilot, SPRX-77, who messes with everyone else, apologizing to me for saying something that wasn't even offensive?" She looked at him and shook her head with casual grin. "I'm not convinced, flyboy." She paused to smoke. "I sometimes hate the things you do. Why? Because ninety percent of the time you're better than that. And I think you know it. You could save yourself a lot of trouble sometimes, if you would just stop and think. Just because everyone else underestimates you, doesn't mean that you should underestimate yourself. Blow them out of the skies, for all I care. We all wish you'd do that more often."

This statement confused him, and it showed on his face. "Wha…"

"You kick _ass_ as a pilot, Sparks. I'll swallow my pride and admit that I admire you. You know what's right and you're loyal to that cause. You're a great friend and you've always got your buddies' backs. There's no doubt that you'll always pull through and meet the challenge. There's no shame in being proud of your talents, there's just a fine line between being proud and celebrating and then gloating. But you don't even gloat that much, if you ask me. I think your team is a bit too serious when it comes to that." She gave a smirk. "In moderation, stroking egos is healthy. You know our Powersquad girls will always cheer for you." She chuckled at seeing his absolutely dazed expression.

"Yeah, me saying all of this is out of the blue." Her lips pursed around the cigar in a particularly long breath, her cheeks drawing in with suction. She swiftly pulled it out and rapidly closed and opened her lips, sending out a flurry of small smoke circles that shot out like bullets. They would erupt into puffs as soon as they hit his face. He chuckled in amusement to her teasing as she retreated the cigar back in between her teeth. "…But I think you know why I brought it up."

She took another pause to inhale the tobacco, and this time, she popped her head crest and reached into the compartment. "You're not some guy who annoys me, Sparks, and I'm sorry if I've come off that way to you. You're my friend. We're brothers in arms. And flyboys and flygirls stick together 'til the end, no matter what. The academy pledge is still the same, even after the decades it's been." Unexpectedly, she tossed something to him. He barely caught it before it could have gone toppling over the edge of the Droid. He gingerly took the item in his grasp, a ring with a key, a small remote, and a tag with yellow and black decals. "And I don't lend my Starspeeder to just anyone."

"Woa, woa, woa, woa!" Sparks made an out-of-breath chortle and pointed to her. "Sparkey, girl, I think it's time for an intervention. You've been drinking since two o'clock this afternoon." He held the keys out, but the other didn't move, so he plopped them into her lap. "You're drunk. And you really don't want to do this."

"I think I know when I'm drunk, and I've been sticking to the one drink an hour rule. It's your birthday, Sparks, and I know you've been drooling over that thing since day one. I ain't some overly possessive rocket freak." The female reached for the keys in her lap and returned them to him. "Just have it back before Friday with minimal damage, is all I ask." When she heard thumping sounds underneath her, she craned her head forward and peered over the edge of the Droid. The limousine had arrived, and the chauffeur was packing up their things. "Well, I think that's your cue to leave."

All the pilot could find it in to do was give a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sparkey."

The other set down her cigar, and without warning, she grabbed his collar and pulled him in. She kissed him, and it was so sudden that for a moment he didn't realize what was happening. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the bitter taste of tobacco on her lips, and instead experience that they were supple and hot. Just as quickly as it seemed to happen, it ended with an abrupt retreat of her head.

She nudged him on the shoulder. "You have fun. And don't take that the wrong way."

He stuttered with a weak grin. "'Course not."

Yet how he wished it was more. Despite the mystery of the unsaid, Sparks left with an excited hop in his step, and whether it was from the conversation or having new privileges to the Starspeeder, he wasn't sure. He found he couldn't wait for tomorrow. Mentally, he sang to himself as he neared his ride home.

'_Best. Birthday. Ever.'_

* * *

**And it is done! I hoped you liked! Please click that little review button to tell me what you liked and didn't like so I may keep it in mind for the future. 8D**

**Thanks for taking your time to read!**


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